Foxy Wilson
by christikat
Summary: Set in season 6 after House and Wilson moved into the loft. Written from House's POV. AU! There's magic involved, someone is turned into an animal and you can either read it as crack or as a serious AU - whatever you prefer. Altogether 12 chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Foxy Wilson**

_**Day 1:**_

"No, House. Nothing you say is going to change my mind!" Cuddy glared at me. I wondered if she really believed that she could stop me with that line.

Unfortunately my comeback was cut off by her office door opening after a knock. A hulk of a man entered the room. I'm not easily appalled by someone else's appearance but that guy was definitely a hulk. I took a step backwards but tried to be casual about it. The hulk had been my latest patient and although I hadn't been on my best behavior I didn't think that I'd done something to piss that man off. Sadly, my interpretation of my own behavior often differed from other people's opinions.

Cuddy glanced at us in irritation, then slowly rose up from her chair. "Excuse me sir, do you have an appointment with me?"

"No, Dr. Cuddy, I don't. I'm sorry to barge into your office unannounced but I was searching for Dr. House. He's been evading me for three days already and his colleagues thought I might find him here. By the way, my name is Harold Henderson, I'm a former patient of Dr. House."

Cuddy eyed Henderson during his speech, her whole posture radiating tension. In the end she sighed and asked, "Do you want to sue him? I'll just call our hospital lawyer."

Her hand was already at the phone when I replied indignantly, "Hey, I didn't do anything that would justify a complaint. Actually I _saved_ his life."

"Yes, you did that and I'm very grateful for it. That's also the reason why I'm here. I want to show you my gratefulness by making your deepest wish come true," Henderson said. All of his attention was focused on me which made me feel … uncomfortable.

Henderson smiled in contentment and crossed the distance between us. To say I was in distress would be an epic understatement. Still, I stood my ground and didn't back off. I'm a tall man but Henderson towered over me; it was a new experience and also one I could have done without.

Cuddy rounded her desk, plastered a smile on her face and walked over to us. Hesitantly she asked, "You don't want to sue him?"

Henderson shook his head. "No, I don't. His manners aren't the finest but he saved my life and that's all that counts in the end."

He turned to me and reached out with one hand which caused me to flinch perceptibly. Quickly I brought some space between us with placing Cuddy in the middle. "Fulfill my deepest wish, huh? Give me back the missing muscle in my leg. Oh wait, you'd have to be a wizard for this. Silly idea!"

Henderson still smiled at me when he replied, "I am indeed a wizard though I don't think you're going to believe me."

That was the point when Henderson was _really_ starting to creep me out. Cuddy and I exchanged a worried glance and slowly, yet cautiously she retreated to her desk so she could be within reach for the emergency button. She stopped when Henderson addressed her, "You don't need to call security, Dr. Cuddy. I mean no harm and I'm not a crazy lunatic either. I'm just here to thank Dr. House."

"So, you're a wizard, you say. How come you couldn't heal yourself?" Of course I didn't really believe that Henderson would answer this question. I was already having fun to imagining the look on Wilson's face when I told him the story about the crazy wizard wanting to thank me.

"I'm a wizard, not a healer, Dr. House," Henderson admonished me. His overbearing attitude was already getting on my nerves. I seriously wanted to slap him after his next question. "Do you know your deepest desire?"

I rolled my eyes theatrically, then straightened up and told him in a bored voice, "To be pain free would be on my wish-list, so what about it?"

Henderson scrutinized me for a minute; it made me more nervous and uncomfortable than I'd ever admit loud. The only sounds audible were the rustling of our clothes and eventually Cuddy cleared her throat. I jumped when Henderson grabbed my left wrist and gripped it tightly. "That is what you think? Let me tell you that you're _wrong_. You're yearning for love, like everyone does."

I cackled over this statement while I tried to loosen the grip around my wrist. It was of no avail, on the contrary the grip tightened until it bordered on being painful. Cuddy's eyes flickered between us and she laid her hand on the receiver of the phone. "Mr. Henderson, please let go of Dr. House."

It stung a little bit that I seemingly was dependent on getting help from Cuddy to get the hulk off me. I could still use my cane but for whatever reason I didn't. All right, the hulk had intimidated me and he had also sparked my curiosity. My curiosity had always gotten me into more trouble than should be legal.

"Don't worry Dr. Cuddy, I won't hurt him."

"I beg to differ. You're hurting me right now," I threw into the conversation with a meaningful glance to my wrist.

Henderson was unfazed when he remarked, "Don't struggle then."

He kept his iron-clad grip and closed his eyes. Tenderly he began to stroke his thumb over the inside of my wrist. It was a weird feeling and confused the hell out of me. Nervously I licked my lips and said, "I'm not into … that kind of stuff, you know."

Henderson's eyes flew open and a big smirk settled on his features. A queasy feeling pooled in my gut and restlessly I shuffled my feet. Eventually I caved under the scrutinizing stare and croaked, "Are we done here? You thanked me, that's enough for me."

"You still don't believe that I'm a wizard and I keep my word. I'll help you make your dream come true." Henderson warded off my fending answer with a wave of his free hand. "Your true love will convert into an animal that fits your soon-to-be-lover's personality. You have one week to muster up enough courage to face your feelings and confess your love. If you fail to do so the person will either stay trapped in the animal's body or die."

I blinked in astonishment. "Wow! So, if I don't confess my _undying love_ that other person is doomed to a horrible destiny? Didn't you say you wanted to do me a favor? This sounds more as if you'd be punishing that other person. Man, I can't believe that I'm having this conversation!"

Henderson stayed cool and collected when he answered, "The knowledge of what's going to happen to that person might help to push you in the right direction. Okay, are you ready?"

I shrugged my shoulders, exchanged another puzzled look with Cuddy and replied, "Ready for _what_?"

Suddenly Henderson's huge hands were pressing from the front and the back against my ribcage, right above my heart, almost squishing all the air out of my lungs. I gave a startled yelp but couldn't do anything against Henderson. Dizziness overcame me as the pressure increased. Just as I was about to pass out the pressure lessened and I could breathe freely again. Quickly I staggered a few steps backwards, bringing as much space as possible between myself and Henderson. I was immensely grateful that Henderson let me go.

I rubbed my chest which felt oddly empty, as if something important and private had been taken out, inspected and then stuffed back. Everything seemed to be out of order, leaving me with the feeling of pure vulnerability which I didn't like at all. I had to admit that Henderson certainly had gotten to me, no matter how embarrassing my admission might sound.

"I'm sorry if you feel a bit sore now, I promise that it'll pass in a few minutes. Your love has now changed into an animal. I wish you all the best with finding the respective person," Henderson apologized. He bowed and walked over to the door of Cuddy's office, leaving me and Cuddy behind. If my facial expression was similar to Cuddy's than we could have won a prize for best bewildered look.

"But … but I'm still me!" Cuddy shouted after Henderson.

I groaned loudly at hearing Cuddy's exclamation. I shook my head – at least it wasn't my fault that she had to suffer from embarrassment. Yeah, well, maybe it was my fault for making her believe that I wanted more from her than just her body. To my defense – what can you do when the one thing you really want is completely out of the question?

I looked over to Henderson who began to chuckle. "Well, Dr. Cuddy, this obviously means that you're not what Dr. House is looking for."

"I'm not interested anyway." Cuddy threw her hair back over her shoulders but the red spots on her cheeks betrayed her words. She pretended to submerge herself in her work again while I kept staring at her. That woman never ceased to amaze me.

"You have Lucas and by the way that's all bullshit anyway. Nice to know that you still have it bad for me," I leered before leaving her office. I had let her off the hook easily, I decided.

I almost bumped into Henderson outside Cuddy's office and grinned at him, "That was really a good show you put on there. Gotta go now and tell Wilson all about it!"

"You do that, Dr. House and good luck," I heard Henderson whispering.


	2. Chapter 2

"What the hell is going on here?" I asked as I entered my conference room and watched a surreal scene unfolding in front of me. Foreman, Chase, Thirteen and Taub were running around, flailing their arms and shouting directions. Suddenly a loud howl caught my attention and flabbergasted I stared at Foreman who held a wildly struggling red ball of fur in his hands. Triumphantly Foreman announced, "Got it! Get a box or something and then a vet to-"

Foreman was cut off by his own pained scream. He dropped the little something which promptly wailed and curled himself together into a small heap. Angrily Foreman snapped, "The little fucker bit me!"

"You chased and grabbed it. The bite was out of self-protection and only natural," I lectured as I walked over to the other ones. I reached the trembling heap which obviously didn't dare move again. I bent down on one knee to get a better view and muttered, "Now what the hell is _it_?"

"Be careful! It might have rabies," Taub called out.

Nonetheless we all gathered around the little creature on the floor in a circle. I nudged it cautiously with a tip of my finger which caused the animal to lift up its little head. Brown, somehow familiar looking eyes, glanced at me pleadingly.

"A red fox kit? Here in the hospital?" I asked while I eyed the kit. Such a docile fox wasn't normal at all. It had to be infected with something otherwise such a shy creature would never have gone into a building crowded with people. The kit crawled nearer to me and nudged its nose against my hands. A soft wail escaped the kit's little mouth as it held out its left fore-paw.

"It … wants you to look at its paw. Maybe it hurt it when Foreman threw it on the floor," Chase suggested.

"I did not _throw_ it on the floor," Foreman snarled. He rubbed over his hand where tiny bites were visibly.

"You totally did!" they all said in perfect unison.

Foreman scowled and the kit barked in obvious approval. It scooted closer to me and I reached out to pet the red fox's head. I let my hands wander and scratched the kit behind its ears. The fur was soft and it smelled of this special baby-scent all baby animals seem to effuse. It was odd but I felt pride rise within me about the kit's trust in me. Still, this whole thing was weird. "This is odd."

Taub exchanged a glance with Thirteen and Chase. "No, really?"

I didn't bother to answer because suddenly Henderson's words popped up into my mind. It was absolutely ridiculous to believe in what he'd said of course but the reminiscence had a strong hold on me. I picked up the kit and turned it on its back to have a look at the genitals. The kit reacted by curling its tail between its hind paws while it tried to snap at my hands.

"A fox that goes shy and glares at me? Oh my God! He really did it!" I exclaimed. I held the kit at the nape of its neck and scrutinized it. Geez, that was – that _had_ to be impossible. No, that couldn't be because ... "But that would mean ..."

"That would mean _what_?" Thirteen asked. Curiosity was clearly evident in her voice and body language.

I held the kit in front of my face and asked it, "Do you … understand me?"

Foreman groaned and shook his head to indicate that he thought this whole conversation was utter nonsense. Everyone else in the room gasped in astonishment when the kit nodded vigorously. I felt my knees go weak while my mouth went dry. Finally I was able to croak, "_Wilson?_"

The sudden silence after I had uttered my question was almost deafening. Only the kit gave a soft bark and licked my hand in affirmation. I tilted my head, shook it, then cleared my throat, "You know it's weird to see a fox smiling."

The kit, no, _Wilson_ licked along the back of my hand deliberately slowly again. The fox and I locked eyes, both not knowing what to make out of this situation when Chase asked, "House? Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not. My best friend miraculously changed into a fox kit. How am I supposed to go bowling with such a small … thing!"

Wilson growled and crossed his forepaws in front of his chest. No one could resist grinning at the sight of the little fox dangling from my hand, trying to look peeved. Thirteen chortled, "Oh my! That's definitely a cute one and it's acting as if it understands what we talk about."

"Of course he understands us because it's _Wilson_," I replied in exasperation. Couldn't they see it? The reason why the kit's eyes had looked so familiar was because they were Wilson's eyes. I should have recognized them immediately but it had been beyond my imagination then.

The agreeable atmosphere changed into an almost palpable tension when everyone except me exchanged worried glances. Chase asked again, "House? Are you feeling okay? You … you know that this is a fox and _not_ Wilson, right?"

"If I told you that I had a conversation with someone who told me that he's a wizard and would … would convert someone into an animal to thank me for saving his life, would you believe me?" I answered. When they all shook their heads I sighed, "I thought so. Don't worry, I'm not crazy – _again_."

Wilson cocked his head to one side and stared at me curiously. He was obviously waiting for a further explanation, for example why _he_ had to be converted into an animal as a thank-you gift from a former patient but I ignored the look. When it dawned on him that I wasn't giving more information, he began to struggle and held his left fore-paw out to me again. Softly he began to yip but increased the volume until I put him down on the glass table. Carefully I examined the fore-paw which caused Wilson to wince and yip even louder. "I think it's just sprained but we're doing an X-ray to be sure, okay?"

"You can't do an X-ray of a fox in a human hospital!" Foreman groused.

"He's a human being in a fox body so that's okay," I replied unfazed. I just hoped that I'd be able to see if something was broken or not. On the other hand, it shouldn't be too difficult to spot a broken bone, even if the scanned body wasn't human.

Chase approached me and tentatively laid a hand on my shoulder. I sighed inwardly; I hated the worry they all radiated. Mostly I hated that they didn't believe me because of the hallucinations I've had months ago. Once a weirdo, always a weirdo, huh?

"House, _please_. This is not Wilson and you're not okay. Let us check you out."

The seriousness of the situation evaporated when Wilson slumped down on the table with a theatrically loud sigh while he rolled his eyes. I smirked about the exasperated body language of Wilson the kit and scratched him behind his ears. "I guess they need more evidence, huh?"

In one swift move I grabbed Wilson and laid him on his back to reveal the genitals. "First evidence: male."

Wilson growled astonishingly loud and hissed at me. Outwardly I pretended to be completely unperturbed although I was aware that I had just humiliated my friend. It was all for a good reason because I didn't want anyone to doubt my sanity and take him away from me.

Deftly I evaded the little teeth and waited for Wilson to calm down. I didn't have to wait for long. Although he was still Wilson he was also trapped in a kit's body, a rather small body to be precise. Eventually Wilson relented, curled his tail around one hind paw and made it clear that he was sulking.

"O-okay, it's a male fox but that doesn't prove that this is Wilson," Thirteen pressed on.

"You guys sit down around the table. I'll say a name and Wilson will walk over to the right person." Impatiently I waved the others over to the table before I added towards the little fox, "Don't screw around with me now just because you're in a huff."

Wilson let out a heavy breath before he put forth his injured paw. He whined softly and looked from the paw to me and back again.

"Yeah, yeah, you big baby. I'll have a look at your paw later," I promised.

Wilson didn't seem to be enthused about my comment but allowed me to put him on the table. Patiently he waited for the other doctors to sit down.

"Let's get started! Wilson, go to Chase."

Obediently Wilson hobbled over to Chase and waited for the next command. I was enjoying myself immensely as I watched the eyes of the others going wide while they discussed how I got the kit to _always_ go into the right direction. I also liked the fact that Wilson simply did what I told him, that didn't happen too often. After 15 minutes Wilson had had enough. The limp was getting more and more pronounced as he tried to stay off his hurt paw.

Slowly he hobbled over to Thirteen and pulled a text marker from her lab coat. She stared at Wilson incredulously, "Wow! You really taught it, uh, _him_ a lot of tricks. But why did you do that? Just to mess with us?"

I threw my head back in exasperation and groaned loudly. "Geez! Why did I hire you guys?"

No one answered because they watched Wilson struggling with the cap of the text marker. Finally I took pity and took off the cap. Wilson gave an appreciative bark before he picked up the marker between his teeth and moved it over the table's surface. I moved to get a better look on the table and the others twisted their bodies so that they had a good view too.

The scrawled letters were almost unreadable but eventually there stood: _I'm Wilson. Why am I a fox?_

"Geez, that's like deciphering hieroglyphics," I commented.

Wilson scowled at me, then smeared: _You try it._

"Nah, I could never write in such a horrible handwriting."

I smirked when I saw Wilson putting the text marker aside, then sitting down on his butt while he kept glaring at me. Suddenly he began to whine in a heartrending way and held his paw out to me. Everyone jumped upon hearing Wilson whine and finally Thirteen suggested, "I'm still not convinced that this isn't just a prank you're playing. Although I wonder why you took a fox kit to screw with us. But … anyway, you should examine his paw. Or get him to a vet."

Wilson's eyes widened and hastily he limped over to me. He nudged one of my hands with his nose. I can't deny that the sounds Wilson was emitting were pulling intensely at my heartstrings. Carefully I picked him up and cradled him into my arms. I made one step to the side, then pondered aloud, "I guess it is not advisable to walk through the hospital with a fox on my arm. We need something to hide you in."

I looked around but got distracted by Foreman's comment, "For heaven's sake, House! I don't know how you got him to do everything but we're not falling for this trick. This is _not_ Wilson and you're not doing an X-ray of a fox in a human hospital."

"I'm not so sure anymore. About the fox not being Wilson, I mean," Chase confessed.

Chase's confession started a heated argument among everyone except me. I knew what I knew and that was enough for me. I exchanged a glance with Wilson on my arm. Wilson shook his head so vehemently that his ears were flapping. I couldn't suppress a chuckle at this sight. I went towards my office and whispered, "You're kinda cute as a fox."

I wished I'd have paid attention to Wilson's facial expression after my blurted, cheesy confession but I was too busy with grabbing my backpack, turning it around and pouring the whole content on my table. When my backpack was empty, I heaved Wilson into it. He looked even smaller than before and that was saying a lot. Wilson started to whimper and tried to crawl out of the backpack which led to a little fight between us. I pushed him back and he struggled to get out again. I didn't want to hurt him so I was as gentle as possible. My gentleness was put to the test when he snapped at my hands. Valiantly I grabbed him and held him tightly between my hands until he kept completely still. "I swear that I'll slap you if you try biting me one more time, got it? Remember that I'm much bigger than you now and can hurt you much more."

I felt like an ass when his heart thumped wildly against my palms while his whole body froze. He gazed at me out of those huge, dark brown eyes, radiating utter fear. Before I was able to tell him that I just wanted to put him in the backpack to carry him over to get the x-ray, the door of my office opened. I turned around, still with Wilson in my hands, then heard a loud gasp from Cuddy.


	3. Chapter 3

I froze, quickly mulling over the idea of hiding Wilson but decided against it. She had already seen the red fur and had certainly drawn her own conclusions. I shifted from one foot to the other when Cuddy approached me slowly. Her mouth twitched and I wasn't sure if she was going to yell or to cry. To be on the safe side I cradled Wilson against my chest, hoping that he'd get the hint from the tension between Cuddy and me to keep quiet.

Her voice came out raspy when she asked, "So … that … Henderson-guy spoke the truth? Or is it just another cruel way of playing me?"

Did she really have such a low opinion of me? I licked my lips in a nervous gesture. What should I say now? What _could_ I say now that wouldn't provoke an argument or fight between us? Wilson took the opportunity and started yipping softly. With his uninjured paw he pressed against my chest to bring some distance between us and have a better look at me. I petted his little head and hushed him, "It's okay. You're going to be okay, don't worry."

"Who … who is it?" Cuddy asked. Maybe I would have answered her if she hadn't continued her question, "I mean … I really would like to know who your _true love_ is. I have to know her, right? She's obviously someone from the hospital and … House? Are you okay? You look pale."

I didn't only look pale, I sure as hell felt like it. It was as if someone had pulled the rug out from under me. I staggered backwards and collapsed into my chair. I avoided eye contact and for maybe the first time in my adult life I was so embarrassed that I was at a loss for words and wished for the earth to swallow me.

"House? House! Come on, say something!" Cuddy urged me. She was crouching in front of me, concern was written all over her face.

"Did you have to spill the secret in front of W-, uh, in front of the kit?" I croaked.

She frowned, gazed at me thoughtfully for a moment before she straightened up. Her face was unreadable which left me with a queasy feeling. I was completely unprepared for her lunging out at Wilson and picking him up. Wilson yelped in surprise and his eyes widened in fear. She held him in front of her face, scrutinized him while Wilson tried to loosen the grip she had around him.

"Hey, don't scare the kit. Give it back to me!" I demanded. I was careful to not slip a pronoun to indicate that my true love wasn't a woman. Gosh, the phrase _true love_ made me want to puke.

As I hauled myself up from the chair and reached for Wilson, she whispered in a wavering voice, "_Wilson_? Is this Wilson?"

I swear that her voice chilled me to the bones and Wilson obviously felt the same way if his whimpers were any indicator. I feared for his safety; no one should underestimate the anger of a rejected woman. She took some steps backwards, still holding Wilson in her hands. I heard myself panting while all kinds of horrible scenarios flashed in front of my inner eye. They all contained Cuddy hurting Wilson badly because I had fooled around with her. I jumped when she suddenly yelled, "I asked you a god damn question! Answer me!"

Wilson didn't struggle or whimper anymore but his whole body trembled. His eyes were glued to Cuddy's face but she was staring at me grimly. There was no point in lying so I confessed, "Yes, this is Wilson you're holding. Now, give him back to me."

She kept on staring at me but didn't move. Cautiously I limped over to her and rescued Wilson. He was trembling all over and hid his face in the crook of my arm. I stroked his fur in long moves until I felt him relax under my gentle ministrations. We both started at hearing a loud sigh from Cuddy.

"I shouldn't be surprised. You are both so incredibly dependent on each other and when you're not together you're both unbearable." She looked at me sadly, then grinned wryly.

Wilson had lifted up his head and looked at her. She came closer and he tensed up. This time she simply reached out and scratched him behind his ears. "Hopefully House tells you what he needs to tell you soon so that you can convert back to your human body. I'll make up something to cover you and also reschedule your appointments."

She smiled more genuinely when he nuzzled his face against her palm and gave a soft bark. She straightened up again and gave my shoulder a firm squeeze. "Don't take too long with giving your admission. I want my head of oncology back."

She turned around and walked towards my office door. When she had reached it, she turned around again, "House? I'm happy for you."

I was left gaping at her back. That had been ... unexpected. I was pulled out of my thoughts by Wilson gnawing on my shirt. "Damn, Wilson! Stop that!"

I swear that he was grinning. Expectantly he stared at me but began to squirm when I just kept on scowling at him. He whined, then lifted up his paw.

"Yeah, yeah, we're getting you examined. I'll take you to a vet and then we'll get you something to eat."

He protested with whining loudly and snapping at my shirt again. Of course I could have simply confessed my undying love for him so that he had converted back into his human form. I didn't know if I could do that. It wasn't as if I hadn't tried to tell him for years now and the one time I had said the dreaded three words he had simply brushed it off as a joke. I wasn't sure if I would _ever_ be able to get those words out. Did he feel the same way for me? Or was it one-sided? My own thoughts were tinged with a tone of bitterness. Loving someone didn't have to mean that a relationship was going to work. Our friendship was good enough for me. Well, except for the times that my vision blurred from the desire to slam him against the closest wall and fuck him senseless.

Anyway, I had a whole week to tell him and it wasn't such a bad prospect of him being a small kit. This week could involve a lot of fun. I grinned at him, "Don't fret and stop snapping at me. I meant what I said earlier, about me slapping you." I threw a meaningful glance towards him. "I know someone who'll have a look at you and won't ask too many questions. Now keep still. You know what? I should get you a collar, I always wanted to put you on a leash."

He growled but finally did as he was told. I put him in my backpack and carried him over to his office. I got his car keys as I didn't want to ride my bike with him being on my back. I wasn't a careless driver but if there was an accident Wilson wouldn't survive it. I squashed the thought of me being a coward. I wouldn't have to think about such stuff if I simply told him that I love him. That thought alone caused me to sweat and panic.


	4. Chapter 4

I was incredibly exhausted and relieved when we arrived at our loft. Well, it was _his_ loft because he had bought it but it was mine as much as his. To be honest, I'd have offered to split the cost but I was sure that Wilson would have freaked out then. He had freaked out when Nora had said that she thought we were such a cute gay couple. Oh man, I still wish I had seen his face then. See? His freak-out was another reason why I didn't want to tell him how I felt. It would do more damage than it would do good.

I shrugged out of my jacket and carried the backpack over to the sofa. As soon as I opened it, Wilson's head emerged with an annoyed growl. He fought his way out of the backpack and onto the sofa where he immediately began to nibble at the dressing around his fore-paw. Fortunately it was only sprained and he had gotten a dressing to stabilize the paw a bit. I rolled my eyes while I watched him nibbling and growling.

"Cut it out. It's for the best and you know that."

I wasn't sure if he ignored me on purpose or if he was too occupied with what he was doing but the result was the same: he kept on nibbling. I watched him for a few minutes until he got the first shred off and barked triumphantly. Until today I don't understand how he managed to get so much of the dressing off in such a short time but he did. Only my bellowed, "Stop it! _Now_!" was able to stop him from shredding the dressing into tiny little pieces.

He looked at me for a few seconds, then shook his head and went back to business. No matter how many commands I bellowed or how loud I got he simply didn't listen. He only spared me with various looks from his _"What the fuck? Leave me alone!"_ - repertoire. It ended with me struggling to get a hold on him. Needless to say that we had a disagreement about me keeping him still. He did have some really sharp little teeth and thin streaks of blood were soon running over the back of my hands.

"_Wilson_! Are you insane? Stop that shit!"

He froze, looked at me, then at his paw and back at me again. I waved my hand in front of him, showing him the blood that was trickling down my hands. He swallowed visibly and ducked his head. Playing the guilt-card still worked which was a relief. I didn't have a fucking clue how to prevent him from tearing the dressing apart otherwise.

"You stay put while I tend to my injuries," I growled. "When I'm done I'll fix the dressing and you won't tear it apart again, got it?"

To be sure that I was getting my point across I tipped his head up, forcing him to look at me. God, his eyes were huge and … shit! Were they getting wet? I wasn't sure if animals could cry but I also didn't stay there to find out. Hastily I got up and limped over to my bathroom. I rinsed my hands under the cold water spray, then carefully dabbed with the towel on the bite marks. As I turned around I almost tripped over Wilson who had obviously followed me. He let out a surprised squeak and scuttled away from my feet.

"Geez, Wilson! Don't sneak up on me. Who's going to feed you or get you to change back into your human body in case I bang my head and fall into a coma?"

He shook his head so hard that his ears flapped against his head. I had to stifle my laughter because I couldn't deny that this action was definitely getting a ten on the cuteness-scale. I had made a mistake by uttering this comment as he continued to stare at me with open interest. _Oh fuck!_ At least he couldn't talk and get on my nerves with babbling all the time about why it had to be him who was converted into a small fox kit. Maybe he even had forgotten Cuddy's comment about my true love …

When I was finished with tending to my hands I looked around but Wilson was gone. I sighed; maybe I was hallucinating again. I resolved to make myself something to eat, watch some TV and then hit the sack early. Maybe I was stuck in a _very_ weird dream and all would be good when I woke up. I doubted it though.

My eyes almost popped out of my sockets when I entered the kitchen. I'm sure I was also gaping and trying to speak but only gasps left my mouth. Wilson was sitting on the work surface near the stove. Headfirst he inspected the knobs of the stove while his tail swooshed excitedly from one side to the other. The cooking plates were gleaming red and one of his hind paws was getting much too close to them. I stumbled towards him, grabbed him by the nape of his neck and yelled, "You fucking idiot! What the hell are you doing?"

He was completely rigid in my hands but pitiful whimpers escaped his mouth. I swear that his eyes had doubled in size, his nose was twitching and his tail was hidden between his hind paws. Nonetheless I shook him lightly and repeated my question, "What were you doing?"

I turned off the stove and almost dropped him when his tongue flicked out and licked over my hand. I guess it was his way of saying sorry but my heart skipped a beat when I fumbled to keep him unharmed. Before I could slip into a rant he pointed with his injured paw at his stomach and barked. It looked ridiculous. The dressing was a mess and his whole appearance reminded me of a Disney-figure.

I cradled him in my arms, asking, "You're hungry, I take it? You know that a fox can't cook, right? Also, the vet gave me special kibble for you. Come on, let's fix the dressing."

He began to struggle in my arms and to be frank – I was worn out from the day and in no mood to play games anymore. I hissed in anger, "Wilson, stop it. I know that you're peeved about what happened and I also know that you want an explanation and I'm sorry. Really, _I am_ but if you're not going to obey _immediately_ I'll lose my temper. You don't want to make me mad while you're trapped into a fox kit's body."

He stopped struggling and eyed me wearily. I petted his head and told him, "Good boy."

Wilson snorted at this but let himself get carried over to the sofa where I fixed his dressing. I let him sit on the sofa while I went back to the kitchen. I prepared some sandwiches for myself and put fresh water in one bowl and the kibble in another bowl. Wilson had already joined me in the kitchen and made me nervous with his consistent winding around my feet. I feared to step on his paws or fall over him. I sighed in relief when he went over to the bowls to inspect them. He took a sip from the water, decided that it wasn't too bad and drank it. Everything seemed to be okay so I walked over to the sofa with my plate full of sandwiches in my hand.

I put my legs up on a stool and switched on the TV. A few minutes later I turned my head and found Wilson sitting on the sofa too. He didn't look at the screen rather than scrutinized me. Slowly he edged closer and closer to me and I frowned. I must have been more tired than I thought because I couldn't stop him from snatching one of the sandwiches. In his haste he almost fell off the sofa but somehow caught himself. I was stunned into motionlessness and watched him squeeze himself under a sideboard. Noisily he chewed on his sandwich and I shook my head.

"Don't come to me and whine because your stomach is hurting later," I told him.

Man, I really should've just told him what I needed to say. This whole scenario was tremendously … weird. Though I couldn't deny that it was also somehow hilariously funny. I made no attempt to go after him but I did observe what he was doing. Cautiously, his head peeked out from under the sideboard and he sniffled. Even more cautiously he crawled out of his hiding place. He froze when I directed my gaze at him, obviously not sure if it was safe for him to be out in the open. I scowled at him and he reacted with hanging his head to the floor. Even from my position I could see that light tremors were shaking his body. Still, he crawled over to me and gave a mewling sound when he reached me. I tried to stay mad at him, I really did, but I simply couldn't.

I put my plate aside and picked him up carefully. Geez, he was so tiny and felt so delicate in my hands that it caused me to sweat. What if I accidentally hurt him? His mewling sounds changed into short barks and I put him down on my lap. He sat there for a moment, then it seemed as if he was smiling up to me. He pivoted around himself several times and the kneading of his paws as he did so was causing my nether regions to swell. It was irritating as hell because he was a little fox kit, for Christ's sake!

I was a tad breathless when he had finally settled on my lap. His head was resting on his forepaws and his long, bushy tail was curled over his hind paws and alongside his torso. He yawned heartily, then was asleep almost in an instant. My hands were just the tiniest bit shaky when I scooped up my plate again. I kept my voice low when I whispered, "I take it that you didn't like the kibble, huh?"

I ate, watched TV, then woke Wilson up. I carried him over to his bathroom and set him down in a bowl that was laid-out with paper. He was so sleepy that he simply curled himself together in it after he had looked at me with a wounded expression. Annoyed I told him, "You're not supposed to sleep in it. That's your toilet."

He opened his eyes again, blinked, then shook his head. He toppled over his own feet when he walked to the real toilet and tried to climb up on it. I groaned loudly which caused him to sprint behind the toilet brush which of course tumbled over. He shrieked and skittered off into a different direction. I laughed and chased him in the bathroom. Fortunately for me he was too drowsy to escape me more than twice.

"You're a fox kit! Have you already forgotten that fact? Come on, use the improvised litter box." I was still laughing but Wilson started to whine in a high-pitched voice and kept peering at the real toilet. "You really wanna go there? How is that supposed to work? You could fall into the bowl!"

He gave an angry snarl and jerked his head towards the toilet, indicating for me to put him onto the toilet seat. Well, if he wanted to learn by doing - that was fine with me! I put him on the seat and watched him. He growled at me when it became obvious that I wasn't going anywhere but in the end the urge to pee was stronger than his dignity. He really managed to score into the bowl and I said, "Wow. I'm impressed. I'll get you a stool or something in here tomorrow so you can go on your own."

He barked and I interpreted it as approval. I picked him up, flushed and cleaned the seat a little bit. Yeah, Wilson's cleanness was rubbing off on me. I told him to go to sleep and that I'd explain everything in the morning. He nodded, then trudged off into the hallway. I made my way over into my own bathroom and prepared myself for bed. When I went into my bedroom the lamp on my nightstand was switched on and the red ball of fur was lying comfortably on one of my pillows.

I changed into my sleeping clothes, then slipped under the covers. Wilson squinted at me and I grumbled, "With going to sleep I meant that you should sleep in your own bed."

As I was saying this I was stroking over his soft fur. I scratched him behind his ears and he nuzzled his head into my palm before he gave it a swift lick. "Yeah, okay, okay. Since you're a baby right now, you're allowed to stay with me for the night."

I turned around and switched off the light, then settled on my back. I was about to doze off when I heard the covers rustling. Suddenly Wilson's paws were on my belly and he did his merry-go-round circle before he lay down on top of me. I kept completely still; there was no need in letting him know that I gave him permission to sleep on top of me. This thought of course triggered some other thoughts and I had a hard time to stop myself from squirming. At least we head survived day one of Wilson's conversion.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Day 2:**_

I was rudely dragged away from sleep by the constant ringing of my phone. I couldn't pry my eyes open so I patted around for my cell blindly. My voice was thick with sleep when I rumbled, "Who the hell calls at this insanely early hour?"

"House, it's after 9 in the morning," Cuddy's exasperated voice drifted towards me. "I cleared Wilson's and your schedule for today. I told everyone you both would suffer from a very nasty stomach bug. Any chance you two will be back at work tomorrow?"

"Wait, wait. I … didn't dream it? I mean, you know, about the wizard who converted my best friend into a tiny fox kit?"

"No, you didn't. At least I was a witness when Henderson told you about his, uh, gift. I also saw the fox as did Foreman, Chase, Hadley and Taub."

I groaned and rubbed my eyes. This was too surreal to be true. Before I could respond, she asked, "House, did you tell him? Henderson said you just had to tell him than he'd change back into his human form. I really want my head of oncology back."

"Have you always been so selfish?" I snapped at her. It was far too early to think about giving a cheesy confession, let alone discuss about it. "I'll call you later. Have to look after Wilson."

I heard her protest but disconnected the call nonetheless. My leg hurt and I scowled at the ibuprofen. I still took those pills although I wished for them to miraculously change into Vicodin. I sighed pathetically – I didn't want to hallucinate again and I really was making progress with the therapy and all that stuff but there were days when I questioned if my struggle was worth it.

Laboredly I rolled out of bed, angled for my cane and hauled myself up. I gritted my teeth; the first steps in the morning were always the worst. I called out for Wilson, then heard a bark and a thud. Frowningly I limped to the kitchen, searching for Wilson. I blinked upon entering it. The door of the fridge was open, some of the food spilled all over the floor. In the middle of the chaos was Wilson, licking milk from a carton he obviously had ripped open. Whoa, I thought, his teeth must be incredibly sharp. I stared at him, then at my bandaged hands. I would have to look at them later to make sure the cuts didn't become infected.

I cleared my throat loudly and grinned at seeing Wilson skittering away in a breathtaking tempo. He crawled under the nearest sideboard to hide which was of course a useless attempt.

"_Wilson_," I said, knowing very well that my tone of voice had to be scary. "Get your ass out here and come to me."

His answer was a shrill whimper that absolutely did not cause me to feel pity for him. I repeated my demand and added, "Believe me, you don't want me to come after you. Get over here – now."

The whimpering sounds increased but he came out of his hiding place. I was ready to read him the riot act but all that left my mouth was a chortle. His whole face was covered in milk and droplets of it were running down his fur. He nervously licked over his snout but never caught everything. At hearing me chortle and seeing me smile he walked over to me, sat on his hind paws and stretched out his forepaws. I wondered if he was insane to trust me considering that he had to know I was angry about the mess in the kitchen but – oh well. My anger had evaporated as quickly as it came.

I picked him up, evaded the mess on the floor and put him on the work surface. Quickly I wet a towel and cleaned his face. Wilson hadn't seen that coming and just sat there dumbfounded. After the cleaning his fur was sticking out in odd directions, giving him a completely ruffled appearance. I was biting my lip to prevent myself from laughing. Maybe we should think about getting a cat or something after he changed back.

That thought brought me back to the moment. I threw the towel into the sink, then started to clear the mess on the floor. My mood changed into annoyance again and I swore under my breath. Wilson followed me on the work surface, eying me curiously. I willed myself to breath evenly as I was sure to discover him smiling. It was kinda hard to tell because the facial expression of a fox could be interpreted how I wanted. I closed the fridge door and bent down to retrieve the last soiled paper towels when I heard a bark. An instant later I felt Wilson jump onto my back. His paws felt warm when he scurried up and down on my back. He was yipping in excitement and suddenly he was licking my neck. I shivered and he obviously took this as a sign of approval. He nuzzled his face against my neck and I gave him the permission to do so. He reminded me more of a cat with his behavior but hey, what did I know about fox behavior? I'd read up on this later, I told myself.

When my leg couldn't stand to be bent anymore I grabbed backwards and pulled him off my back. He gave a startled squeak when I put him down on the floor. I gave his head a quick pat before I heaved myself up. He sat on his butt and watched me filling the coffee-machine. I prepared myself breakfast and around a mouthful of bread I mumbled, "Since you already helped yourself to your breakfast, I guess you're not hungry anymore. Don't raid the fridge a second time, buddy."

He looked at me with an expression that clearly said, "Do I look as if I'm listening to you?" He was just lacking the eye-roll. To complete the picture of him being unfazed he yawned, then started cleaning his fur. I had to turn away when he started to clean his genitals with one leg held above his head. It was somehow disturbing to watch him and it also led to me shuffling my feet nervously. I have never been so glad before that the coffee was finished and swiftly poured myself a big mug. Without looking at him I carried it over to the table. I had to grin when I found the newspaper already lying on it. Given, it had a few holes but it was still a sweet gesture. Maybe Wilson resembled more a dog than a cat.

I ate and read the newspaper in peace until I heard Wilson's paws clicking on the floor. He hurried to the bathroom, still trying not to put too much weight on his injured paw. He came back a few minutes later but avoided eye-contact. I put my head in my hands – what had he done now?

I finished my breakfast while I watched him climb on the sofa. He curled himself together on a pillow and dozed off. After I had cleared the table I went into his bathroom and cleaned the provisional litter-box. Poor guy, that must have been a low blow to his self-esteem. But alas – it couldn't be helped now. I still got him a stool which he could use as stairs if he wanted to go on the real toilet instead, as I had promised him the other day.

Afterwards I went into my own bathroom and took a shower. Since we were staying home I decided to wear sweatpants and a shirt. Wilson was still asleep when I emerged from the bathroom. It was a relief actually, because then I could postpone my little speech. I went over to the computer, booted it, then started browsing through sites which dealt with foxes. Henderson had said that the animal my soon-to-be-lover would become, was fitting his personality. I pushed the anxiety about Wilson _wanting_ to become my … _whatever,_ away. Instead I concentrated on finding out facts about foxes.

I skimmed through the biological details and only registered that Wilson was indeed a red fox kit. I also learned that the kits were mostly called pups but since I liked the word kit better I stayed with that. More interesting were the results I got when I searched for cultural connotations. To cut it short: in most cultures the fox was a cunning creature who often also possessed magical powers. It was emphasized that foxes were considered to be tricksters but not evil ones. The fox was witty, highly mischievous and reached his goal not by being brutal or using strength but rather his intelligence. He was also playful, attractive and sexy. The animal was a perfect match for Wilson's personality, I had to admit. I did _not_ think about the attributes attractive and sexy at all, nope, totally not.

Yeah, okay, maybe I did think about it a little bit. It was odd because he often acted like a nerd. Not to forget the awful ties he wore. It seemed as if he was getting better at dressing though. When I had first met him he had absolutely not been the type of guy I'd go normally after. I've always swung both ways but I had liked my men to be beefy and strong. I went for short cropped hair and angular faces. Wilson didn't fit in my usual prey pattern at all. His frame was lanky, he appeared to be almost delicate when I met him. His hair had been really longish at that time and his face was one of the most boyish faces I had ever seen. Hell, he looked like a teenager who needed his Daddy to hold his hand and guide him through life.

I shook my head as I remembered my first impression of him. Yet, I had been immediately interested in that boy-man and not only because he threw the bottle at the mirror. I had been attracted to him in an instant, no matter how hard I tried to convince myself that my interest was simply born out of pure curiosity mingled with boredom. For some reason he had triggered overly protective feelings within me. Not only that but also very possessive feelings. We both suffered through his marriages, my infarction, his numerous girlfriends and so on and on but we were always close. He had only tried to leave once and even that had been because he had been afraid of losing the most important person in his life – me.

I smiled at this thought. Even though we both had changed through the years, inwardly and outwardly, our friendship had survived. Never again did I want to go through the feelings I had experienced when he had shoved me out of his life and told me that he was leaving. A big hole had been left in my chest and my mind had been clouded. The first steps after he came back were tentative and I felt as if I was walking on eggshells, not wanting him to shy away again. Sometimes I still got angry about Amber's life having been more important to him than mine but he had been desperate. By now I could acknowledge the fact that his plea for the deep brain stimulation hadn't been a decision for Amber and against me. He had loved that woman and even though I didn't like their relationship I had to begrudgingly admit that she had been good for him.

I didn't want to dwell in the past anymore so I closed down the computer and walked over to the sofa. Wilson was still curled up into a tiny ball of red and shiny fur. My fingers were itching to pet him but I withstood the temptation. I sat down and watched him, exercising the phrase "I love you" inwardly. I cringed and winced, my head was starting to throb and why in hell did I have to tell him anyway? Wasn't it obvious enough without saying it aloud? Oh right, there was the fact that he wouldn't change back into his human body if I kept my mouth shut.

"I'm not going to save anyone's life _ever_ again if I'm not sure that person isn't a wizard," I grumbled. I pinched the bridge of my nose, kneaded my thigh, then let my head loll against the backrest of the sofa. Why was it so difficult to say those three words? People said them _all_ the time. Given, most of the time it was faked but why the hell couldn't I say them? I mean, I had said them a few times but it had always felt as if that wasn't me.

I almost jumped out of my skin when Wilson nudged my hand with his cold nose, barking softly. I exclaimed, "Geez, Wilson! Stop sneaking up on me, you're giving me a heart-attack!"

He pursed his snout, then shook his head so vigorously that his ears were flapping again. His eyes twinkled when he was finished. I could practically hear him say, "_Right_, Mr. Grouch – anything else you want to whine about?"

"Come here," I said and held him by the nape of his neck. He didn't like this hold very much and kicked his legs in the air indignantly. Quickly I pressed him against my chest, stabilized his body with laying one hand under his butt and used the other one to stroke from head to butt in long strokes. He stared at me out of big eyes for a moment but soon he relaxed under my ministrations. If he had been a cat he would've purred _very_ loudly. Whenever my hand landed on his little head he nuzzled it against my hand with a push and a twist. I felt myself relaxing too and to be honest – I liked this; whatever it was.

All good things must come to an end and our petting session was no exception. Suddenly he gave a soft bark, then climbed down from the sofa by using several pillows as a ladder and stormed off into the direction of the bathroom. I wondered what we were supposed to do the whole day. I got up, retrieved the newspaper and started to do the crossword puzzle. After a while I became aware that I was being watched. In his human form he'd have stood there, a few feet away from me, with his hands on his hips, scowling at me. As it was, he sat on his butt and bore holes in my skull with his eyes being drawn to small slits.

"What?" I asked in an irritated voice. I was relatively sure what his intense stare meant but I really, really didn't want to talk about it. It wouldn't hurt him to stay a fox kit for one or two more days, right?

Wilson let out a deep sigh before he trotted off in the direction of the sofa again. I feigned being engrossed in the crossword puzzle again but I kept close tabs on what he was doing. I watched him struggling with the pillows on the floor and piling them up next to the coffee table. He tripped over his own feet twice and the top pillow kept rolling sideways and on top of him at least five times but in the end he was successful. Even when he was trapped into such a tiny body he was as persistent as always.

He climbed up onto the coffee table, sniffed here and there and finally snatched a pen. At first I thought he was gnawing at it but soon it became obvious that he tried to find the right angle so that he was able to write with it. I came over to him and watched him fight with the pen and the paper. Patiently he tried over and over again to scribble something down on the paper he found but it was of no avail. Either you couldn't make out a single letter or the paper ripped apart.

Almost half an hour later Wilson's fury about his incapability bubbled to the surface. He growled and hissed, spat out the pen and shredded the papers on the table in tiny pieces. While he ripped the papers apart he panted and snarled. I was once again stunned into motionlessness and simply stared at him. When he was done he sat there, his shoulders hunched and his head bowed, mewling and whimpering to make a stone cry.

My mouth was dry, too dry and it took me various attempts to croak out, "I hope what you just shredded wasn't something important."

I expected him to whine even louder but instead he swiveled around to face me, arched his back and hissed at me. Hastily I tried to recall if a fox could be dangerous for a human but that was plain ridiculous. Wilson was a small kit, only weighing around a pound. Okay, he was angry due to frustration and he had some sharp little teeth but he wasn't a threat to me. At least not as long as he was trapped in the kit's body.

I held up my hands in a placating manner and cooed, "It's okay. I know you're frustrated and … and I promise that you'll change back and-"

I was cut off by him leaping off the coffee table with another angry growl. The growl changed to a wail when he obviously landed on his injured paw. He rolled onto his side, looked at his paw and panted heavily. He looked so miserable that I simply bent down and scratched his belly. He allowed me to scratch him for a few minutes but as I was about to pick him up, he limped off. I frowned – I was really trying to be comforting and _nice_.

He stood in front of a cupboard and barked. He glanced back over his shoulder, then barked again. It took me a couple of seconds to understand that he wanted me to come over and get something for him.

"Our communication skills could be better," I told him as I walked over. He gave me a pointed stare which I tried to ignore. "Okay, okay, it is _my_ fault that we can't communicate properly right now. Does that make you feel better?"

He tilted his head sideways and nodded while his tail rapped on the floor. I opened the door and in an instant Wilson was in the cupboard. I didn't even have a chance to process what he was doing as he climbed up three shelves. He almost fell off the third shelf and I wondered how he was capable of climbing with his sprained joint. He shrieked when he lost his footing but I caught him in a reflexive move. He jerked his head into the direction of the third shelf and I said, "You want something out there?"

He nodded eagerly while he tried to loosen the grip I had around him. "Wilson, wait. I'll point with my finger at each item and you bark when it is the right one, okay? That way you can't hurt yourself."

A bark and an expectant facial expression was the answer I got. I pointed at several boxes and he barked when I reached the Scrabble-box. "Oh!" I said with raised eyebrows, "You wanna communicate with using the tiles from the Scrabble game?"

He nodded again and gave my hand a swift lick. By then it wasn't as irritating as it had been the previous times. I put him down on the floor and retrieved the box out of the cupboard. He looped around my feet as I carried the box to the coffee table which almost caused me to fall flat on my ass. "Wilson," I ranted. "What have I said about you winding around my feet?"

He gave a sound that I hadn't heard from him before. It reminded me of a cackle and he ended it with a long-drawn sigh, expressing just how annoyed he was by me. He used his pillow-ladder to climb up on the table and I cleared it of all the tiny paper bits. While I cleared the table he nudged the box with his snout, trying to get the lid off. Exasperatedly I meant, "It wouldn't hurt you to simply wait a minute, you know."

He rolled his eyes and concentrated further on the box and the lid. In the end he had to wait until I opened it for him. I watched him trying to snatch the small tiles in his mouth but he soon got frustrated again. When he hissed I suggested, "Wait a moment and I'll help you. I'll get all tiles out of the box and place them face-up on the table. You'll only have to push them around then."

His hiss changed into a soft bark and he trudged over to rub his head affectionately against my hand. I let him, then picked him up and put him on my lap. While I sorted through the tiles I kept on stroking him. It felt nice and I also needed something to distract myself from the dreadful conversation we were going to have _very_ soon.


	6. Chapter 6

I was almost done sorting through the tiles when Wilson began to scuttle up and down on my lap. His nose twitched and his whiskers trembled in anticipation as he observed my movements closely. As soon as I was done he pounced from my lap to the table which led to him sliding over the smooth surface. His unintended slide ended right at the edge of the table with him sprawled out on his belly, looking dazed. He blinked, then cautiously crawled back from the edge and straightened on all fours. He shook his fur, maybe to overcome his moment of shock, which caused him to look like an oversized ball of red fluff. The hairs of his fur were standing in utter disarray and I couldn't hold back my laughter.

Wilson was surprised, then inspected himself. He barked before he came over to me and nudged me with his nose. He was still a clever lad as he used me to flatten his fur. A few broad strokes of my hands and he was the perfect fox kit again. When I tried to withdraw my hand he snatched it between his fore-paws and rubbed his head against it in pure affection. Warmth flew through my body and a smile spread out over my face. I gasped when he abruptly sucked at my index finger. He was careful not to graze my skin with his little teeth but he sucked on my finger – _deliberately_. He held eye-contact through the sucking and I was rendered into total speechlessness. I swallowed and was about to give a remark when he released my hand and hurried over to the tiles that were on display.

We had to endure two more hissy fits from him because the pushing around of the tiles with his paw wasn't possible. He ended up pushing the tiles with his nose which required a great deal of patience from him. In between he lifted up his head, glared at me and growled. It didn't help me to feel more comfortable.

Finally he was done and looked at me expectantly. I read: WHY AM I A FOX

"Uh, well, it isn't my fault. No, really, it isn't!" I sighed when he tilted his head and began to whine. "Do you really want me to tell you the whole story?"

Hastily he sorted through the tiles again and when he was finished there stood: YES NOW

"Okay, okay, I got your message," I grumbled. "Remember that huge guy, Henderson, I cured about ten days ago? He tried to talk to me for the past three days and eventually cornered me in Cuddy's office yesterday."

Until then the talk had been easy. Now we were getting to the hard part. I moaned, I really didn't want to talk about why Wilson had changed into a fox kit. I slumped back against the backrest of the sofa and closed my eyes. Maybe Wilson would give it a rest, I thought. Instantly I scolded myself for this ridiculous thought. It only took Wilson a few seconds to walk from the table on my knees, then up my legs until he was climbing upwards on my chest. I opened my eyes when he nudged my face with his head. It wasn't an affectionate nuzzle as it had been before rather than a demand that translated into, "You fucking bastard! Open your eyes and tell me, damn it!"

I put him away from my face and down on my lap. He didn't struggle and for that I was grateful. I took in a deep breath and continued, "Henderson said he wanted to do something for me. Give me a gift as a thank-you for saving his life. He was creepy. Even when I said that I didn't want anything he insisted on it. He told me that he's a wizard and would make my, um, deepest desire become true."

Wilson frowned at that, barked and stood up on his hind paws while he questioningly tilted his head. I patted his head and pressed him down so that he was sitting on his butt again. "He … told me that he would convert someone who means a lot to me," I took a deep breath and decided that this line didn't sound too bad. "Um, someone who means a lot to me would change into an animal that fits that person's personality."

I smiled at him and added, " While you slept I browsed through the internet. Guess what I found out. Being a fox fits your personality perfectly though I don't know if it has a special meaning that you changed into a kit instead of a grown-up fox." I was babbling, trying to avoid saying what I had to say and I was sure that Wilson was picking up on my distress.

I told him a zillion stories about fox-fables in various countries until he gave another long-drawn sigh and clambered back up on the table. I kept talking and also started to sweat when he disarranged the tiles. He then brought them into a new order and cut my monologue off with a bark when he was finished.

HOUSE PLEASE TELL ME THE TRUTH

"I am telling you the truth!" I protested vehemently. That wasn't even a lie since I had found out all about those fables while I did my research earlier that day. Of course I knew that he wasn't referring to those stories but hey, he wasn't the only one who could evade unpopular talks.

He was getting angry, the tense body language and the narrowed eyes were a dead give-away of his current state of mind. Yet, he rumbled only weakly as he went back to business and shoved the tiles around. Maybe he put a bit more force than necessary into the moves. I had shut up and waited till I could read: WHY AM I A FOX I WANT TO CHANGE BACK

"Since you're missing the question mark and the exclamation point, you could at least bring a bit more space between your sentences to make them more easily readable."

He lost his temper after my comment - in a quite spectacular manner, I might add. The remaining tiles clattered to the floor and suddenly I had my hands full with Wilson who was barking, growling and wildly snapping at my hands. His outburst caught me totally by surprise and I had to use more strength than I wanted to be able to hold him down. He was on my lap on his back, one of my hands bearing down on his belly while my other hand was closed around his snout. He struggled and squirmed and more than once I had to follow up with my grip. All the time I feared harming him; I could practically feel all his delicate bones and his heart thumped erratically under my palm.

"Shhh," I said, trying to hush him. "Shh, Wilson, it's okay. Stop struggling and stop snapping, then I'll release you. I will tell you what happened, okay?"

We were both wheezing and my hands trembled from the effort to hold him down without hurting him. Slowly I decreased the pressure of my hand on his belly, then let go of his snout. He immediately rolled on his belly and looked away from me. When I touched him to pet his back he flinched and gave a high-pitched whimper that almost tore my heart apart. I truly must have scared him. He was jittery and very slowly wobbled from my lap over on top of the table again.

"Wilson … Jimmy … come on," I whispered.

He had curled himself into a small, miserable heap of red fur. He was trying to get the shaking of his body under control but tremors still surged through his body in waves. His dark brown eyes were directed at me, holding a mix of various feelings – fear, hurt, anger and also a great deal of wariness. Helplessly I cooed, "Come on, get back here."

He refused to get up and a tad desperately I added, "I didn't mean to hurt you but you were trying to bite me – _again_."

He didn't react for a while. Eventually the tremors subsided and he uncurled himself. His eyes flickered from me to the tiles and he gave one of his odd mewling sounds. Pleadingly he looked at me and I cursed as I found myself crouching on the floor, picking up the scattered tiles. He watched me with a faint smile even though he had to know that my leg would hurt from this position. On the spur of the moment I shot up so I was face to face with him and shouted, "Boo!"

He skittered backwards with a shriek. The shriek changed into a full-blown squeal when he toppled over the edge of the table on the other side. _Oh shit!_ I thought. Fortunately he fell on his pillow-ladder and had a soft landing. When he was finally on the floor he sorted through his limbs, then peered around the corner of a pillow cautiously.

"You okay?" I asked.

We were on par with each other and simply stared. He nodded, then came closer to me. I was surprised when he lumbered over to me and rubbed his head against my cheek. I wasn't only surprised, I was also relieved that he didn't hold a grudge against me. He began to rub his head against my cheek with more force, trying to push me aside. When that didn't work out he started climbing up on my neck and shoulders. His breath tickled me and I wished it would be the _real _Wilson panting in my ear. I swallowed hard while he tried to wrestle me down. It was of course a ridiculous attempt as I only had to grab him by the nape of his neck and pull him away from myself.

We ended up with me lying on my back on the floor; my head was propped up by one of the pillows from his destroyed ladder. Wilson was on my chest, eying me. He wasn't wary anymore for which I was immensely grateful. I wondered if he had always been this jumpy in his behavior or if he had simply given up on expecting any kind of answers from me. I reached out to scratch him behind his ears and he closed his eyes. He opened them again when I blurted, "Henderson told me that he'd change my … my _true love_ into an animal that would fit this person's personality. I have one week to … to confess my feelings to said person. After my confession that person, which would be you I'd say, changes back into human form."

I didn't tell him about the consequences if I'd fail to do so. I also didn't look at him. I had closed my eyes while my cheeks were positively burning from embarrassment. I couldn't remember when had been the last time I had felt _that_ uncomfortable. At least I was able to keep still and not give into the urge to squirm restlessly on the floor. I opened my eyes again when something wet touched my nose. Wilson was nudging my nose with his own, his eyes twinkling. I still believe that he was choking on his own laughter. Embarrassed I grumbled, "Are you mocking me?"

He barked but I couldn't muster up enough energy to be angry. For some odd reason I suddenly felt exhausted. He was rubbing his little head against my chin, yipping, and his paws were kneading my chest. I took it as a sign of contentment and maybe even happiness. Maybe I was just interpreting his behavior to my liking. On the other hand, he hadn't recoiled or fled the scene when I practically told him that he was my _true love_. Geez, that term still makes me nauseous!

I stroked over his back and thought about what to do because telling him the dreaded three words was still causing my throat to constrict heavily. To get back on safer ground and ease the tension within me I continued, "Guess what? Remember that we were in Cuddy's office? Yeah, when Henderson had done his … magic, whatever, which was really a very unpleasant experience, there was that moment with Cuddy ..."

I trailed off and he stared at me inquiringly. He licked his lips, then started yipping again to urge me on. I smiled at him, remembering that odd moment in her office yesterday. Wow, had it only been yesterday? I cleared my head with shaking it and finished my story time, "Henderson told us that he'd done it. I mean that he'd changed you into an animal and Cuddy protested that she was still herself."

He gave that cackling sound from earlier, slumped down on my chest again and hid his eyes behind his paws. It was an endearing sight to see him like this and a huge grin had spread all over my face. "That was really an embarrassing situation for her, eh?"

He lifted his head up and nodded, then jumped down from my chest. He scurried over to the tiles on the floor and shoved and pushed them around. I waited until he was finished and read: HILARIOUS

"You're not half as nice as you seem to be, you know that?"

He shrugged, then made himself busy with the tiles again. I turned over on my side to get a better view on him. He was concentrated on his task at hand, er paw, and the end of his tail was high up in the air, trembling slightly. He sat down on his butt and directed his gaze at me, giving a soft whining sound when he pointed at the tiles.

TELL ME

I'm sure that all color drained from my face at that moment. I opened my mouth, then clicked it shut. I scolded myself, it really couldn't be that damn difficult as I was making it out to be, right? He was taking in everything so easy, so why was I so reluctant? Yeah, okay, more frightened than reluctant.

Actually I knew why I was trying to evade telling him. It would be real then, no going back, no pretending that it was just a joke. Even if he was game for more than a simple friendship, though our friendship had never been simple, what if we couldn't get a relationship to work? The chances that we'd suck at this were high, so incredibly high. I sighed, all those thoughts were bringing me nowhere and it also wasn't very mature. Not that I was the most mature person to begin with but -

I was again drawn out of my thoughts by Wilson nudging his nose against mine. He was such a dork, even when he was a fox kit. His tongue flicked out and licked a path over my nose before he turned around to push the tiles into a new word.

PLEASE

I swallowed after reading that one word. He scooted closer to me and curled himself up under my chin. It struck me in this moment just how tiny he was. When I was sure to be in control about my vocal cords I said, "I will. But I might need a few more hours to bring up enough courage to do so."

He breathed out a puff of air, then trudged over to the tiles. His whole body demeanor spoke of defeat and disappointment. He knew that he was dependent on me and if I had been at his place I had panicked. I gave him credit for not doing so or maybe he was too good at hiding it. He pointed with his injured paw at the new tile formation: PROMISE

"Come here, you baby. I promise to confess my _undying_ love for you later today, okay?"

His facial expression lightened up and he snorted. He plodded over to me, nestled up against my chest and tugged at my shirt sleeve until I got the hint to pet him. The floor wasn't the most comfortable place to be but I couldn't be bothered to get up. I closed my eyes, curled one hand around Wilson's butt and with the other hand I stroked his back in long moves. It didn't take long for Wilson to fall asleep and I followed soon.


	7. Chapter 7

When I woke up there was not one single part of my body that didn't ache. I had to face the fact that I was definitely getting too old to sleep on the floor. I patted around for Wilson but he wasn't there. Laboredly I rolled onto my back and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. I called out for him and in a blink of an eye he pounced onto my chest. He was licking his chops which caused me to frown. My sleep-dazzled brain needed a moment to register that a red fluid was smeared all over his face. I bolted upright, which didn't do my back any good, and gasped in shock.

"_Wilson_! What the hell did you do _now_?"

He gave a single bark, then knocked with his tail on my belly. He was gone as fast as he had come. I hauled myself up while muttering under my breath. I had to stand still for about a minute until I was sure my legs would hold me upright. Wilson was nowhere to be seen but I heard smacking sounds and briefly wondered if Wilson had caught a mouse and was ripping it apart. The red fluid definitely could have been blood. It wasn't even that I was disgusted by him hunting down a mouse – he _was_ a fox at the moment and couldn't really be blamed for following his instincts – but I was sure that he'd be mortified later.

I hobbled into the kitchen where the smacking sound were coming from and sighed. I didn't know how often I had sighed in the past 36 hours but it had to be _really_ often. The door of the fridge was standing ajar – again – and a chair was standing in front of it. Obviously Wilson had gotten hungry and climbed up the chair. I still puzzled about how he got the fridge door to open. The door had visibly suffered from his claws, there were scratch marks everywhere. I closed the door and went to have a look at what he was eating. His head was stuck deep in a bag that had held frozen strawberries. He had moved them from the freezer into the fridge yesterday morning, so that they would be thawed in the evening. Vaguely I remembered that he wanted to make something incredibly healthy with it. He seemed to like them the natural way too.

"Did no one ever tell you that you shouldn't stick your head in a bag because of the potential danger of suffocating?"

He pulled his head out of the bag and I couldn't hold back my laughter. The first half of his body was drenched in strawberry juice but my usually so clean friend didn't seem to mind at all. He drew up his chops which gave him the silliest look I had ever seen, then ventured back into the bag to eat the rest of the strawberries. I looked around on the floor, mulling about where to walk because the red juice was smeared all over the floor. Not only was it going to be slippery but also sticky. Still, I grinned.

I walked into the kitchen from the other side, found out there was still edible coffee in the thermos jug and poured me a mug. As I drank my coffee I watched Wilson crawling completely into the bag. Ten minutes later he came out and yawned. He sat down on his butt, scratched himself behind his right ear with his hind paw and started cleaning his fur. I sat down and observed him for another fifteen minutes. Part of his right fore-paw and his belly were cleaned but overall the fur seemed to get scratchy and itchy. He didn't concentrate on a specific patch of fur anymore, he randomly started to lick, then winced and paid attention to another part.

"Need help, rascal?"

Wilson started, then gazed at me thoughtfully before he sauntered over to me. He was about to get up on his hind paws and press his fore-paws against my pants when I told him sternly, "No way. You're one sticky mess. I'll get a towel and carry you over. Shit, even the dressing is drenched in strawberry juice. You need to get a fresh one."

He whined at my latest statement and followed me. "I take it that you're whine translates into 'I don't wanna go back to the vet', am I right?"

He nodded and began to whimper in this high-pitched tone that set my teeth on edge. I grabbed a towel, bent down and wrapped him in the towel. Only his head lurked out of the towel and it did _not_ cause me to smile at him. "Okay, okay, I'll make you a new dressing. Didn't seem to be very difficult to do and you'd only need it for a short while anyway. Although … I could make my confession when you're in the tub. That would be a nice view, you, naked and covered in strawberry juice ..."

I trailed off and felt him shiver. Whether it was out of disgust or something else entirely, I didn't know. He withdrew into the towel as if he wanted to hide. I chided him, "Even if your face is flaming up I couldn't tell. What with all the red fur and the juice all over you."

He barked and finally we arrived in his bathroom. The tub would be a good idea but I had to bend down or get on my knees and honestly, my body was already aching enough. I put him in the sink and checked to see if the shower spray would go far enough. Fortunately it did, so I rinsed the juice out of his fur. I cut off the drenched dressing and carded my fingers through his fur. He was still sticky like hell so I got one of his shampoo bottles and squeezed a dollop into my palms. I spread the foam all over his fur, then started to massage it into him. Wilson's eyes were closed and he held completely still. He was enjoying this session maybe a tad too much so I grumbled, "You have more bottles of shampoo and conditioner than three women together."

He didn't take the bait, instead he simply shrugged and rolled over on his back to give me access to his belly. As my hand wandered down to his genitals his eyes suddenly snapped open while he curled his tail between his hind paws.

"You wanna clean yourself there on your own?" I asked as nonchalantly as I could. It was so damn wrong to touch him _there_, right now. Of course I knew that my reluctance was somewhat ridiculous but it couldn't be helped. He swallowed hard a few times and his eyes danced around the bathroom for a while. Slowly he lowered his tail, glanced at me, then squeezed his eyes tightly shut.

I was sweating and my face was surely flushed by the time I was finished washing him. I occupied myself with getting the temperature of the water right, then rinsed his fur over and over again. Finally his fur felt as soft and clean as it should and I put the shower spray aside. I ripped away the dressing on my hands because I had forgotten to take it off or put gloves on before I started to wash Wilson. The bite marks were healing good and looked more like scratches already. I decided to put some ointment on them later but no new dressing.

As I turned around to get the towel I had placed on the toilet seat I caught Wilson staring at my hands. He could have won a prize for his guilty face at that moment. "Hey," I said, "it's no big deal."

He avoided eye-contact and shivered. I simply wrapped him in the towel, then rubbed him dry as good as possible. That wasn't as easy as it sounds now because he was ticklish and squirmed and squeaked on my lap. Several times he almost slipped out of the towel and I could barely prevent him from falling on the floor. I scolded him each time and solemnly he nodded when I told him to keep still. Yet, the experience repeated itself several times. When we were done he looked like a red fuzzy ball with twinkling brown eyes and a shiny black nose somewhere in it. Wordlessly I put a new dressing on his injured paw, then gushed in a theatrically manner, "God! Aren't you a pretty baby now?"

I laughed and it felt good to do so. Wilson shook himself several times and I helped him flatten his fur. He yawned, then stretched and did his merry-go-round circle on my lap. His eyes were already closing and swiftly I cradled him in my arms. "Oh no! You're not going to fall asleep on my lap now while I'm sitting on the toilet lid in your bathroom."

I intended to carry him over to the sofa, then clean the kitchen floor. When I reached the sofa his head was snuggled in the crook of my arm and both hind paws dangled loosely in the air. I shook my head since it was obvious that he was sleeping and also very relaxed in his sleep. I decided to let him have his beauty sleep and sat down on the sofa. I made myself comfortable with him still cradled in my arms. He shifted a bit in his sleep to get more comfortable and gave a content sigh. I chuckled and stroked him for a while. I had turned on the TV but kept the volume low. Man, I was _really _considerate, eh?

He slept for maybe an hour, then woke up and hurried into the bathroom. I stood up to face the inevitable cleaning of the kitchen floor. By the time Wilson came back from his trip to the bathroom I was cursing loudly. The juice film on the floor was tenacious and in the end I was forced to get down on my knees and scrub vigorously for about an hour. At first Wilson watched me but soon he retreated further and further behind the counter in the middle. Whenever I cursed especially loud he hid completely behind it, only to peer around the corner when my swearing subsided.

By the time I was finished my leg throbbed and I could barely tolerate the pain. Wilson's guilt-stricken face made it only worse and it cost me a great effort not to yell at him. I hadn't eaten much over the day and in addition to the pain I felt a bit dizzy from hunger. Not that I would have been able to get anything down at that moment but it didn't help me to feel better too.

I eyed the sofa but decided to lie down for a while in my bed. I swallowed two Ibuprofen and felt like crying. Those pills weren't even going to take off the edge of my pain but that was all I had. The few steps I had to take to get to my bedroom were pure torture and I was gulping air in gasps when I sat down on the edge of my bed. My body was shaking but despite all the pain I wondered what Wilson was doing.

I was just hauling my legs onto the bed when Wilson came into my room. He pulled the heating pad behind him which led to him stumbling and falling several times. I took the heating pad out of his snout and wrapped it around my leg. It was a nice gesture and I desperately hoped that it would do me good. He brought me the extension cord that was plugged in and with trembling fingers I plugged the heating pad in. I lay down and waited for the heat to loosen the cramps.

Wilson was sitting in front of the bed, sometimes getting up on his hind paws to get a better glimpse of me. I let my hand dangle down from the bed and scratched him behind his ears. He nuzzled his head into my palm and yipped softly. Eventually I grabbed him and put him on my belly. I occupied myself with stroking and sometimes tickling him and it felt so damn good to have him close that I blurted, "I love you. I totally do and not in the platonic way if you get my drift."

He froze on top of me and I guess we both expected him to change back into his human form but nothing happened. I frowned and said, "Huh, shouldn't you change back now?"

He panted in agreement, then kneaded my belly with his paws. Maybe I hadn't said it correctly? I cursed inwardly, then tried again even though my gut coiled up. "_I_, Gregory House, love _you_, James Wilson."

I had pointed with my finger from me to him but still nothing happened. I groaned, "Oh shit! What's that supposed to mean? I don't know any other way to tell you my undying love."

My face was flushed and I was getting angry. Why didn't it work? I vowed to myself to find out Henderson's address tomorrow and take him to task. It was late in the afternoon and I could have found out then and drove over but my leg wasn't up to any kind of activity. Wilson kept kneading and started to whimper, drawing my attention back to him.

"I'm sorry," I told him and meant it with all my heart. "He said that I only had to confess my love to you and then you'd convert back. I don't know why it isn't working. I'll find out his address tomorrow and we'll ask him, okay?"

He swayed a bit as he walked upwards on my chest and worriedly I asked, "Are you okay?"

He shrugged, then his whole body shivered. I sat up and he tumbled down on my lap. He looked up at me with a dazed expression. He gave a very soft whine which quickly changed into heartrending whimpers and began to crawl down from my lap. New shivering fits wrecked his body and made it difficult for him to coordinate his limbs. I was irritated and drained but his whole demeanor was frightening me. I groaned loudly when he bent over the edge of my bed and the first retching sounds reached my ears.

"Oh, crap, no! Wilson, come on!"

He lifted his head up and turned it towards me before he mewled meekly. Seconds later he was retching again. I unplugged the heating pad and with a hiss I got up from the bed. I tested my leg and to my surprise it wasn't hurting as much as I had expected it to do. Slowly I limped to the kitchen to get a bowl and some paper towels. On my way back I stopped at the bathroom and got a wet washcloth.

When I entered my bedroom Wilson was lying on his side, panting heavily. His eyes were glazed and his freshly washed fur looked dull. I had seen this before. He looked like an animal that was going to die.


	8. Chapter 8

I evaded the spot with vomit on the floor and sat down next to Wilson. He yipped but didn't get up. I swallowed hard and with slightly trembling fingers I wiped his snout clean. His chest was heaving up and down in irregular patterns and sometimes his legs winced uncontrollably. I didn't know what to do at all. Maybe it was just his body changing back?

"Wilson, what's wrong? Did you feel the same way when you changed into a kit?"

The shake of his head was almost imperceptible. He winced again, then coughed and gasped. I had to lift up his head so that he wasn't aspirating the vomit while he retched. I was more than just a bit scared, I was terrified.

I wiped him clean again, then picked up my cell phone from my nightstand. I called Cuddy at the hospital and without preamble I bellowed, "Get me the address of that creepy Henderson-guy!"

"House? Why? What's wrong?"

"I don't know what's wrong but Wilson is … he … he looks as if he's dying," I blurted. Tears were stinging my eyes and I couldn't bear to look at Wilson at that moment.

"What? But it's not even two days since he changed into a fox and-"

I cut her off with a snarled, "I _know_ that and before you ask – yes, I told him what I had to tell him and instead of changing back he's … he's ..." I trailed off, drew in a shaky breath, then choked out,"He's not doing good. Now give me the damn address!"

She didn't answer but I heard her tapping away on the keyboard. Seconds later I had the address and scribbled it down. I knew that neighborhood and was relieved that it was only about ten minutes away from us.

"House, what are you-" I cut Cuddy off again, this time with flipping my phone shut.

I hurried out of the bedroom and got my shoes and car keys. When I came back I almost panicked. Wilson was foaming at the mouth and wheezed. His eyes were still glassy but they also held a look of utter terror and helplessness. Again I lifted up his head and wiped his snout clean. His tongue flicked out and touched my hand. It felt hot and raspy, not wet and cool as I was used too. My cell started ringing but I didn't care. I put on my shoes, wrapped Wilson in the old, shabby blanket that was always draped on the foot of my bed and hoped that Henderson could help him.

I was gritting my teeth when I reached the car because my leg was by then throbbing again. Sweat was trickling down from my forehead and I hoped that the police wouldn't stop me because I surely looked like a lunatic. I slid behind the wheel and laid a whimpering Wilson down on the passenger seat. I had just started the car when he threw up again. His breathing was getting shallow and he still hadn't enough control of his body to prevent himself from choking on his own vomit. I cleaned him as good as I could, then placed him on my lap. At least I'd be able to keep him from suffocating this way.

The drive to Henderson took exactly ten minutes and by then I was barely able to keep it together. Wilson had vomited several times and was emanating incredible heat. He was wheezing, when he breathed at all, sometimes it seemed as if he stopped breathing. I parked on the front lawn of Henderson's home, not caring about the stares of some pedestrians. Wilson was completely limp in my arms and I feared to be too late. Briefly I wondered if it wouldn't have been better to bring Wilson to a vet instead of bringing him to Henderson. Maybe the sheer amount of strawberries had caused him to get sick? Yet, it felt right to be on the threshold of Henderson's home, pounding at the door and yelling at him to come out.

Suddenly a thought struck me – what if he wasn't at home? I reeled and my leg was about to buckle when the door got opened and an old lady stood there. She didn't seem to be surprised to see me or maybe she had already experience with wacky people knocking on her door. I didn't care, shoved my way into the house and demanded, "Henderson, I need to see him. _Now_!"

The old lady closed the door, then called out, "Harold, there's a visitor for you!"

Henderson sauntered into the hallway quickly and his face lit up when he saw me. "Dr. House! What a surprise to see you!"

"You _fucking asshole_!" I yelled. "I told him over half an hour ago and since then he's dying!"

I unwrapped the blanket from Wilson and held him out to Henderson. He gaped and so did the woman. She hustled over to me and stared at Wilson with concern. "How long is he been changed?"

"Less than two days," Henderson told her. "He should be fine, especially when Dr. House confessed his love."

The lady squeezed out, "I hate it when you force people to confess their love to each other. Did it ever occur to you that some people like to keep their relationships the way they are?"

"But-"

"Yeah, yeah, you just wanted to thank him with that action. I got that much, Harold," she scoffed.

Suddenly I remembered her, she was Henderson's wife. I hadn't seen so much from her when he had been in the hospital but she'd always been there, holding his hand. I had believed she was one of those overly sweet and caring old ladies, who always wore skirts or dresses, their whole appearance showing that she'd never worked all her life. She had somewhat reminded me of my own mother – always following her husband, doing whatever he wanted. Maybe I had only seen what I wanted to in that moment.

"Dr. House's yearning for a special person's love was too obvious to let this chance pass, Meredith," Henderson replied.

I exploded, "And that gives you the right to kill him? I told him at least twice that I love him and you know what? Since then he's getting worse and worse." My angry outburst had left me drained and my eyes were burning from holding back the tears. I turned to Henderson's wife and hoarsely I begged, "You've got to help him. _Please_."

"Of course we're going to help him," she retorted resolutely.

She turned and beckoned me to follow her into their living room. She swept everything from a big table with a loud swooshing sound and told me to lay Wilson down. Wilson gave a high-pitched whine and stared at me in utter terror. I gasped when I saw him sprawled limply on the table. His body looked … odd, as if it was fluctuating. Around the dressing were dark clouds, sometimes emitting sparks of dark fluid.

"What's that?" I pointed at his left fore-paw and Wilson's gaze followed me. His eyes widened even more before he looked at me again, pleading me to do something. I wished I had a fucking clue about what was going on but magic was not my territory.

My head swiveled around to Henderson's wife when she breathed out heavily. She patted me reassuringly on a shoulder, then told Wilson in a soothing voice, "Don't you worry young man. We'll cut off the dressing and then I'll help your body to get back on track. It might hurt a little bit when you change back. _Someone_ seemed to have forgotten to tell you that you can't wear _any_thing when you're about to change back. The conversion isn't going to happen then, instead it's quickly, _very_ quickly going to kill you. It's a miracle you're still alive."

She glared at her husband and to my big surprise this hulk of a man looked abashed and very, very small. He mumbled, "I'll get the scissors."

He did exactly that, then got a chair for me to sit down at the table. They cut off the dressing and Wilson's yipping got louder. Mrs. Henderson held her hands above Wilson's body and murmured some words over and over again. I didn't recognize the language but I'm fairly sure it was an old one. Wilson calmed down after a minute and his breathing became more evenly. He flinched when her hands encompassed his injured paw and I winced in sympathy. The dark clouds wavered above his paw and wound between her fingers, curling around them. She was starting to chant and the clouds slowly began to sink into Wilson's paw.

Wilson started struggling shortly after they had begun and wailed louder and louder. I was about to get up but Henderson put a hand on my shoulder to keep me down. Softly he said, "No. I'll hold him and … don't worry. Meredith knows what she does."

"Not something I can say about everyone in this room," I growled.

He surprised me again by answering, "You're probably right."

I watched him holding Wilson's little body down with his broad hands. He was almost hidden completely under those huge hands and I licked over my lips nervously. Sweat was collecting on my upper lip and I only wanted Wilson to change back and be healthy. I didn't even care that there were some awkward moments ahead of us.

I cringed when Wilson's wailing grew even louder while Mrs. Henderson's chanting got louder too. She lifted her hands off the paw and I saw that no dark material or whatever it had been was floating around it anymore. His fur looked soft and shiny again, his nose was wet and his eyes were open, gleaming and looking very much alert. She withdrew her hands and Henderson allowed him to get up. Wilson barked, then shook himself and lumbered over to the edge of the table towards me. I reached out with trembling fingers, picked him up and pressed him against my chest. I didn't care that there were other people seeing me acting this affectionate, I simply needed to _feel_ Wilson.

Wilson laid his head on my clavicle and nuzzled my throat, sometimes licking me there. I held and stroked him, whispering over and over again, "Thank God, you're okay."

We were so engrossed in each other that I jumped when Henderson cleared his throat. He smiled as did his wife. She said, "I'm afraid you have to repeat that you love him for him to change back now. Do you want us to leave the room?"

I shook my head, "If it makes you uncomfortable to listen to me, then yes. Otherwise I don't give a fucking damn about what anyone thinks right now."

Wilson nudged his head playfully against my cheek and I held him in front of my face. "It'll be odd when you're suddenly you again. I kinda got used to you being so little."

"Dr. House, before you tell him you have to know that he'll be very weak for a few hours. In case you want him to change back here on your lap, make sure that you'll have a good grip on him. Or you might want to carry him over to our guestroom," Henderson's wife suggested.

As tempting as it was to have Wilson sitting on my lap I wasn't sure if my thigh could bear his weight. I sighed, "The lap-sitting thing has to wait. Show me the way."

Mrs. Henderson led the way and I put Wilson down on the bed. She reached out for Wilson and scratched him behind his ears. He rubbed his head against her palm which of course caused her to smile.

"Stop flirting, she's already spoken for," I grumbled.

Wilson gave an annoyed huff and Mrs. Henderson laughed. When her laughter had subsided she asked me, "What's his name?"

"Wilson, uh, James," I stammered.

"James, you better lay down now. You'll feel a tad dizzy and maybe nauseous but it'll pass within the next few hours." Gently she pressed him on the bed until he was lying on his side, waiting for me to confess – again.

Mrs. Henderson turned to me before she left the room. "By the way, I'm Meredith. I'll make some tea and warm up some soup for the two of you." Her expression became a tad sourly when she added, "Oh, and Harold will help me. In case you hear me yelling, don't worry about that. Such an _idiot_!"

I waited until the door had clicked shut, then said, "_Harold_ seems to be in the doghouse, huh?"

Wilson barked, then looked at me expectantly. I rested my hand above his ribcage and felt his heart beat steadily beneath my palm. It was an incredibly comforting feeling. I withdrew my hand and we locked eyes. Even though it still felt odd and made me cringe a little bit I said earnestly, "James Wilson, I love you."

I watched his whole body shaking, shivering, stretching, and fluctuating. It was the weirdest thing I've ever seen in my life and it seemed to take an endless amount of time but eventually there he was – back in his human form. He was stark naked and my eyes trailed a path from his face downwards. I hadn't expected his body to be in such good shape. His upper abs were well defined and the lower ones were at least firm. I frowned and asked, "Did you exercise lately?"

"How about first asking 'Hey, how are you doing?'" he shot back. His voice was raspy and he cleared his throat.

I averted my gaze from his nether regions and asked, "How are you doing?"

He scrunched up his face, then answered slowly, "Actually – I'm not sure. Could you help me and cover me with the blanket before Mrs. Henderson comes back?"

"But I'm sure she'd appreciate the view," I leered.

He blushed but held my gaze, then muttered weakly, "House, _please_."

He was no help at all because he was incapable of coordinate movements. I rolled him on his side and pulled the blanket out from under him. It gave me a good view of his ass and I couldn't withstand the temptation of stroking over his mounds quickly. He drew in a shaky breath and I felt his muscles quiver underneath my hands. I rolled him on his back again and covered him with the blanket. Deep red spots were dancing on his cheeks and he was biting his lower lip. I wasn't sure what to make out of his behavior. Of course he had changed back but I still didn't really know what he thought of my confession. An awkward silence settled between us but fortunately we weren't forced to endure it for long because Henderson entered the room, carrying a tray.


	9. Chapter 9

As Meredith had predicted Wilson was very weak. He couldn't hold a spoon, let alone sit up without help. Harold – yeah, he had urged me to call him by his first name and at some point I just had no nerves left to deal with him, so I gave in – had hauled him up in a sitting position and we had tried to keep him stable with stuffing pillows everywhere but Wilson just had no body strength. After our third attempt Wilson protested and asked us to leave him alone and it was right at this moment that Meredith entered the room.

Well, after she had finished with her rant we all knew who was wearing the breeches in this household. In the end Wilson was flat on his back again, only his head was slightly elevated. Meredith had brought straws and told him to drink the soup with it. I was already groaning when she had finished her suggestion because I knew that Wilson would decline. I was just glad that her next speech wasn't directed at me though I felt pity for Wilson. I can't recall how many times she called him young man, boy or sweetie, causing him to cringe in embarrassment each time. Finally he interrupted her speech, "Okay! Just … just stop scolding me like a five-year-old."

She shrugged, smiled and said, "Sure, sweetheart. As soon as you're eating your soup. You need to eat and drink so your body will get back its strength. It's in your hands how soon you'll be able to have control over your body back."

She pulled up a chair next to Wilson's bed, smiled again while her voice held an overly cheery tone, "You two don't mind me sitting here, right?"

Like two small boys we exchanged a quick irritated glance and nodded. I held the bowl of soup for him and when he was finished Meredith clapped her hands together. "Fine, fine, boy. You'll feel warm and sleepy soon. Don't try to fight against it."

Wilson and I exchanged another, this time more worried glance. He cleared his throat and asked her, "Did you, um, put something in the soup so that I'm going to sleep?"

She broke out in laughter, bent over him and brushed a long strand of hair off of his forehead. It was a motherly gesture but my blood pressure increased suddenly. She said, "No, sweetie. I guess you and your boyfriend have some weird ideas about wizards and witches. I can't even blame you after what Harold did to you. That wasn't right and he hasn't done it in over a decade so I didn't expect him to do it _ever_ again." She sighed, then continued, "Boy, your body is tired, exhausted. Changing into an animal and back into your human form is like pushing your body to the extreme. Add to that you almost died – and believe me a few minutes later and I couldn't have helped you – that pushed your body to its limits. Rest and regenerate, okay?"

I swallowed hard while I listened. When she had finished I had my face in my hands and breathed heavily, trying to get her words about him almost dying out of my mind. Meredith laid her hand on my shoulder and squeezed it gently, "Gregory? You should eat and then rest too."

I nodded while my eyes darted around. There was no armchair or anything remotely comfortable in the room for me to recline. "Do you have another guestroom or something where I can lay down?"

"Don't you want to share the bed with your boyfriend?" she asked.

I felt my whole body go rigid and hot waves of embarrassment surged through my body. Of course I wanted to share the bed with Wilson although I would _never_ use the term boyfriend in association with him. I still didn't know how Wilson felt about my confession and crap, that whole situation was more than awkward. I mean, after how many years of friendship did I give this confession?

Wilson spoke up, his tone was soft and gentle, but my gut coiled up with the fear of dejection. He explained to Meredith, "Meredith, actually we … we aren't boyfriends. We … we ..."

"Well, you're going to become boyfriends then, what's the difference?" she asked, irritation showing clearly in her voice.

I was offended by how easily she took all this when it wasn't easy for me at all. I snapped, "The difference is that I don't even know what _sweetie_ here thinks about my confession!"

I deliberately didn't look at Wilson in that moment, instead I concentrated on Meredith. She stared at me for a long moment and all I could think of was wishing that Wilson would say something, anything. He kept quiet but Meredith sat down beside me on the edge of the bed. She took one of my hands and one of Wilson's hands and intertwined them. She clasped our intertwined hands in her own and said, "He wouldn't have survived as long as he did if there wasn't a very strong bond between you. Usually when someone tries to change back while wearing something that person dies within fifteen minutes at maximum. Only your love and his trust in you could have gotten him through for that long. Also, the person who changes into an animal _has_ to love you unconditionally. So, be assured that the feeling is mutual."

She gave our intertwined hands a pat, then got up with saying, "I'll look after you later. Just put the empty bowl on the tray."

Before she was able to leave the room Wilson shouted after her, "Meredith! Wait, please."

She turned back, a curious look on her old, wrinkled face. "What is it, sweetie?"

"You're a … a witch, right? And you helped me to change back. Um, is there a possibility that you're able to take some of House's pain away? From … from his thigh? He was hurting badly before he drove me to your place and he's still in pain, so … please?"

I stared at him in bewilderment. That wasn't what I had expected. Yes, I was in pain and it was getting worse by the minute but I had been too distracted by everything else that had happened around me to give it much thought. Now that he had mentioned it the pain sliced through me and I became aware that tremors ran through my body. My clothes were glued to me from perspiration and my breathing was shallow.

Meredith came back, held her hands above my thigh which caused her frown to deepen. Curtly she nodded, then said, "Eat the soup if you can, I'll get some supplies and will be back in five minutes."

She left and I took the bowl with soup. Despite the pain, the awkwardness and exhaustion I was starving. I hadn't eaten much that day so it shouldn't have been a surprise to me. The soup tasted fine and after finishing it I felt sleepy immediately. I rubbed my eyes and heard Wilson state, "Maybe there are special herbs in it which work like sleeping pills?"

His voice was heavy with sleep and his eyes small, as if he was barely able to keep them open. He still hadn't reacted to my confession or to Meredith little speech earlier. I was about to ask him straightforward but Meredith came back into the room at that moment. She held a small jar and a large dressing in her hand. I eyed her warily but she didn't seem to see it.

"Get off your jeans and lay down on the bed," she said. Maybe she had recognized my wariness because she added, "It is not going to hurt and whatever your leg looks like, I promise I won't gasp in shock."

"How very comforting to know," I grumbled.

Yet, I did as I was told. I didn't look at her when I lay down on my back but I was gnashing my teeth so hard that my jaw started to hurt. I started when Wilson's hand landed on my cheek. His movements were clumsy because his muscles still didn't obey his commands so his hand came to a rest on my cheek as an almost slap. He winced, blushed and mumbled, "Sorry, that should have been a comforting gesture."

"Maybe you should revert back to that nose-licking thing you did when you were a kit. It's less dangerous and hurtful for me."

He smiled at me and for the millionth time I wondered how on earth it was possible for a human being to have such deep dimples. I really wanted to kiss him at that moment but of course the spur of the moment was ruined when Meredith smeared something cool on my scar. I flinched and cursed while I propped myself up on my elbows. I turned quiet when I discovered ugly black, gray and green sparks of material bustling around my thigh. Meredith hands felt cool and tender but I gulped in puffs of air nonetheless.

Her eyes were hefted on my scar when she explained to me, "I'm not a healer and I can't take the pain off completely. I am capable of dampening the pain to a tolerable level though. If you want to keep the pain at this level you would have to come to me twice a week for about two to three months, depending on how good you react to my tending."

"That would be marvelous. House will be very happy to come to your place twice a week," Wilson replied.

Irritated I snarled, "Since when is it up to you to make decisions for me?"

"Since I'm going to be your boyfriend," he deadpanned.

"You are?" I completely forgot about the fact that I didn't want to use the term _boyfriend_ in association with us because I was too stunned.

"Sure. You didn't think that I went through all of this without getting anything out of it, did you?"

I shook my head. "All it took for you to come around was getting changed into a fox kit?"

"Well, knowing how you, uh, feel about me would've helped to get your message across earlier. I never knew what I was to you, to be frank. Hey, no more heart-to-heart talk now, I feel out of my element." He tried to make a dismissive waving gesture with his hand but it was only a weak imitation and his hand fell limply on the sheet between us.

Meredith chuckled, then said, "You two truly deserve each other."

I didn't know how to respond to her statement and neither did Wilson obviously. We stayed quiet while Meredith murmured words in this strange, foreign language. I watched the sparks vanishing, sometimes changing their color to a bright orange and white. The pain decreased until my leg only felt sore. A great heaviness overcame me and I slumped back on the mattress. I craned my head to look at Wilson but he was already asleep, breathing deeply and regularly. I patted around and found his hand to intertwine our fingers. I gave his hand a gentle squeeze before my eyes drifted shut. The last thing I remember before I fell asleep was Meredith putting a dressing around my thigh, telling me that it was helping the ointment to get absorbed properly by the skin. She pulled the comforter over my legs, then whispered, "Go to sleep, Gregory."

I did.


	10. Chapter 10

I didn't wake up on my own. A hand shook me gently and asked me to wake up many times. When I was finally successful with prying my eyes open Meredith was sitting on the edge of the bed and Harold stood beside her. In a moment of panic I turned my head, fearing that something was horrible wrong with Wilson. My wildly thumping heart calmed down immediately when I saw him watching me with an amused smile on his face. Grumpily I asked, "Why did you wake us up?"

"Because I need to check on James, see if there's any damage done to his wrist," Meredith answered.

Harold joined the conversation by saying, "We also thought that you might want to use the bathroom and eat a snack before going back to sleep for the night."

I glanced at my watch, it was only 9 pm. I hauled myself upright and scrambled out of the bed when I suddenly realized that I was still without my pants. I put on an impassive face while I angled for my cane and threw a glance to Wilson over my shoulder. His eyes had widened a fraction and he gripped the linen tightly. Obviously he had just remembered that he was absolutely naked.

Meredith tried to pull his hands away from the sheets and when that was of no avail she asked puzzled, "Sweetie, what's up with you? I'm just going to make sure that your wrist is okay."

He harrumphed while his gaze flickered around the room aimlessly, "I … I, uh, okay."

He kept on holding the linen with the other hand so tightly that the knuckles of his right hand stood out white. Meredith inspected his wrist and prodded around which caused him to flinch. Towards me she asked, "What was the matter with his paw when it was injured?"

"It was sprained."

"Oh, okay. It's still sprained now. Harold, go get the ointment in the big, green jar and bring a dressing with you."

Harold did as he was told and Meredith let go of Wilson's hand. She frowned at seeing the uncomfortable state Wilson was in. Suddenly she smiled and shouted after her husband, "Harold! Please bring a pair of pajamas for James!"

She turned her gaze back to Wilson and admonished him mildly, "Young man, you could have just asked for clothes. There's nothing to be embarrassed about. We'll see how good you're doing when you stand up. Harold will help you go to the bathroom in case it is necessary."

"Um, thanks," was Wilson's relieved answer.

"Do you need pajamas too? I'm sure one of Harold's would fit you if we revert the seams," Meredith continued.

"No, thanks," I replied hastily.

I was rescued from further explanation because Harold came back. He handed Meredith the jar and dressing and I watched her put it on Wilson's wrist. She laid the pajamas next to him on the pillow and said, "Harold will wait outside and show you the bathroom while I get the tray with the snacks."

When the door was shut Wilson struggled to a sitting position. With shaky fingers he grabbed for the top of the pajama and pulled it over his head. It was at least two sizes too big and he looked like a boy who was wearing his Dad's pajamas.

"Do you think these are also Harold's?" he asked.

"I don't think so, you'd drown in those."

I came closer and even though he blushed he allowed me to help him with the pajama bottoms. I didn't ask him aloud, just held the pants out for him and he nodded. Fortunately for him the pants could be tied with a string. He swayed a bit on the spot when he eventually stood upright for the first time. I commented, "You're much bigger now than you've been when you were a kit."

Wryly he replied, "Couldn't stay a kit forever. Would've made doing my job so much more complicated. Not to forget that it would've complicated becoming your boyfriend too."

He was one of the very few people who could render me speechless. I'm still not sure if I like that fact. I gaped at him and stared when he suddenly craned his head and pressed his lips against mine. I was so shocked that I was completely unresponsive. He withdrew with brightly gleaming red spots on his cheeks, mumbling, "Sorry, maybe I got what this is all about totally wrong."

"Don't be an idiot," I told him before I pulled him in close.

It should have been a confident move but he staggered and we almost lost our balance. He leaned his head on my shoulder when we stopped swaying and began to giggle. "That needs improvement, huh?"

I had my nose in his hair so he couldn't see the broad smile that appeared on my face. His hair smelled of the fruity shampoo I had used earlier today to wash the strawberry juice out of his fur. Geez, that seemed to be ages ago already.

I had my hands around his shoulders and Wilson's hands were around my waist. It was the very first time we were embracing each other and it should have felt at least a little bit odd but instead it felt right, normal, like it was supposed to be. I swallowed, carded my fingers through his hair and then cupped his face in my hands. I stared at him for a long time before I croaked, "Shall we try again?"

It made me ridiculously happy that his voice cracked when he answered with a simple, "Yes."

I hadn't kissed another man for years but it felt good. His lips pressed firmly against mine and I wondered if he'd find my stubble weird. For whatever reason I assumed he was completely new to all this. A bit dumbfounded I opened my mouth with a groan when his tongue flicked out, licked swiftly over my lower lip, then demanded to be let in. My hands were still cupping his face but I pulled him in even closer and my own tongue started exploring his mouth.

After a while we broke apart, both breathing fast, almost panting even. He smiled at me and said, "That was much better."

"You're not … grossed out by kissing another man?"

He blinked and frowned before he tilted his head to one side quizzically. Hesitantly he asked, "Why would you think that? Wait, do you think I've never done that before? Kissing a man, that is."

I was rendered speechless again and didn't like it at all. So, obviously it wasn't the first time he had kissed another man. That was … interesting. Okay, it was more an annoyance because however foolish that might sound, I had expected to be his first man. Wow, I was an _idiot_!

He chuckled suddenly and took a step forward until our pelvises were flush against each other. I took in a shuddering breath at this action and he said, "You _did_ think that! Sorry to break it to you but you won't be able to take away my virginity."

His eyes twinkled in good humor but I was oddly disappointed. My next question came out more seriously than I wanted it to be, "Seriously? No chance at _deflowering_ you?"

"Uh, no, you're about twenty years too late for that," he told me. I could tell that he was getting nervous because his fingers that were clutching my shirt were getting fidgety. "Did you _really_ hope for that? It doesn't sound like you at all."

I shrugged my shoulders, feeling sheepish and not in the mood to explain myself further. "I thought you were afraid and that was why you didn't react to my flirting."

"House," he sighed. He brought a bit more space between us so that we could look at each other without hurting our necks. "When we first met I was wary of you. I thought you'd just bailed me out of jail because you wanted to get into my pants. I was astonished when that didn't happen. I hadn't met another man who only wanted to be my friend for quite some time."

I cringed inwardly as I was very much aware of what I had wanted to do to him back then. The only reason why I hadn't taken advantage of him was that he had looked much too young. It had taken me a while to get it into my head that he was of legal age and therefore responsible for his own actions. I was drawn out of my thoughts when Wilson went on.

"Well, and then we didn't see each other regularly, we both hooked up with women and I had convinced myself that I didn't … you know, _love you_ in that way." He blushed and averted his eyes but this wasn't the time for him to chicken out so I tipped his head upwards to look at me again.

Too lighten the mood I said, "You must have said that phrase so often in your life that it should flow from your lips easily. I didn't think you'd blush like you're doing right now."

I grinned while I watched the blush turn into a deeper shade of red. Embarrassed he muttered, "You're an ass."

"You won't get anywhere near this fine ass of mine if you keep insulting me," I quipped.

If I didn't know any better I'd had said he was on drugs. His pupils blew up and the black took up most of his irises. It gave him a predatory look and made me feel slightly queasy. What else didn't I know?

He licked his lips and rasped, "I'll be nice."

I smirked, then said, "You're always nice when you want something."

Before we could continue our conversation Harold knocked at the door and asked, "Are you ready?"

"Yes," I said and turned Wilson around.

He staggered and almost lost his balance again. He would have crashed if Harold hadn't opened the door in that moment and lunged forward to grab him. Harold's bulky frame still impressed me; even more when he stood beside Wilson. My friend looked stunningly small and delicate next to him and if I interpreted his body language correctly that was exactly how he felt. Harold led the way to the bathroom, steadying Wilson with a strong grip around his waist. Wilson glanced over his shoulders towards me, a strange pleading look in his eyes. I followed them and asked myself how much of his coolness whenever Harold or Meredith had been in our proximity had been a mask.

The bathroom was down the hallway and as we entered it I saw Meredith going into the guestroom, carrying a tray. Harold asked Wilson if he needed help in the bathroom but Wilson quickly denied that. I waited outside along with Harold until Wilson was finished, then made a beeline for the bathroom too. Wilson didn't look all that happy to be left alone with the Henderson's but faked to be nonchalant about it.

When I came back into the guestroom Wilson was sitting on the edge of the bed, a small table with the tray was placed in front of him. I pulled the only other chair close and sat down opposite to him.

"Meredith and I will head off to bed soon. We believe that it is for the best if you stay overnight. After breakfast tomorrow James should be strong enough to walk on his own. My apologies for the scare I put you two through," Harold spoke.

When Harold had left Meredith added, "Sweetie, don't worry too much. Nothing bad will happen to you while you're sleeping. Remember that you slept two hours here already. Just because we can use magic doesn't mean we're bad people. Although I understand that you're anxious after the experience you went through."

Wilson winced at being caught so easily but Meredith just smiled. She bent down and dropped a light kiss on the top of his head, murmuring, "It's been a while since we had young people in our house."

Wilson looked at me in confusion but I was too occupied to react because of Meredith next comment, "I put some supplies in the drawer of the nightstand. In case you want to celebrate tonight."

She winked at us and left the room, leaving us with bewildered looks on our faces.


	11. Chapter 11

"Do I even want to know what she meant by that statement?" Wilson asked while he pinched the bridge of his nose in a familiar gesture of nervousness.

"Let's eat first, then we can decide if we want to find out or not," I suggested.

Cautiously I observed the drawer. Somehow I expected it to pop open with a loud bang, spewing out rose petals and candy hearts. I shook my head to clear it and we ate the food on the plate. Meredith had arranged some kind of tasty morsels which I couldn't really identify. Nonetheless they were delicious and on top of that there were two bowls with chocolate pudding.

Wilson had finished before me and with a satisfied pat on his belly he lowered himself on the bed. He bent his head to watch me and pointed out, "We probably should brush our teeth now."

"I've forgotten to pack our toothbrushes and we wouldn't be able to get you through the bathroom without help anyway."

He shivered slightly and curled himself together on his side, facing me. "Uh, I'm sure my teeth will survive without getting brushed for once."

I raised an eyebrow when I discovered the shiver and out of curiosity I asked, "Are you scared of Harold?"

"No, not really. He's just fucking huge! His arms are as thick as a leg and I'm sure he could break someone's bones without breaking out in sweat."

"I think he's pretty harmless."

"Says the one who wasn't a fox kit," he replied sourly.

"But at least something good came out of it."

"I'm still waiting for the good part."

I faked to be shocked and purred, "Why, Dr. Wilson, you're planning to have sex?"

He fought against a huge grin that was spreading all over his face but in the end he lost. "Don't tell me you don't want to. I mean, we have to make up for about twenty years, right? Do you want me to knead your crotch? You liked that when I was a kit."

How could someone so evil look _that_ innocent? I almost choked on the last spoon of pudding when he told me about the kneading casually. "Just for that I'm claiming your ass first."

"Now?"

I did choke for real on the water I was currently drinking. I coughed and coughed until my vision was bleary from it. When it had subsided to a tolerable level I put the small table away and sat down on the bed. I scrutinized him and forced my face to stay straight. I didn't have to wait long until he began to squirm and stammer, "House you … are you … everything okay?"

He yelped in surprise when I bent down and sucked hard on his throat, making sure to leave a bruise there. He struggled against my hold but was still too weak to get me off him. When I was sure that I had done a respectable job I released his skin. Pleased at the result I said, "Looks good on you and for your information: you can't hide it even with a turtleneck."

I had placed the hickey right under the left side of his jaw and it was a fine one, if I do say so myself. Wilson groaned and slapped a hand flimsily against my chest. "Figured you'd go all caveman!"

His cheeks were tainted with a faint flush and after giving this a moment of thought I declared, "_You_ like that. You get turned on by the more aggressive people, the ones who claim you."

It was an unspoken agreement that I was speaking about myself and also about Amber. I didn't say this aloud because mentioning her name would have killed the mood. He swallowed, then looked at me, his whole body speaking of open vulnerability before he whispered, "Is that a bad thing?"

I didn't trust my voice nor did I trust myself to reply without a caustic remark. I shook my head as an answer and bent down again to kiss him full on the mouth. My hands got tangled up in his hair which seemed to have grown out during the last two days. Maybe I should ask Meredith about that the next day but for the time being I had more important matters at hand.

When we parted for much needed air my face was level at the drawer of the nightstand. I reached out for it without even knowing what I was doing. Wilson whined when he saw my action, "House! Whatever it is, I don't want to know about it."

"Aren't you the tiniest bit curious?" I retorted while I pulled the drawer open.

"No, but you're curious enough for the two of us."

I laughed out loud when I saw the content of the drawer: a bottle of lube and two foils of condoms. Still laughingly I turned to Wilson and presented the items to him.

"Oh God!" he groaned and hid his face behind his palms. "Put them away, there's no chance I'll use this stuff."

"Technically you won't use them, I will."

He uncovered his eyes and frowned at me, "When did we decide on anything at all?"

"We didn't, I did."

I silenced the oncoming protest with kissing him. His arms came up around my neck but he couldn't keep this posture up for very long. His arms trembled and I rubbed over his biceps in a soothing gesture. He wasn't happy about his frail body and said, "I hope this will be over by tomorrow."

"I'm sure it will," I reassured him. "See, that's another reason why I get to claim your ass tonight. The other way around we had to fear that you'd fall out of the bed or something equally embarrassing."

He chuckled but turned serious in an instant. "Are you sure that's what you want? I'm usually more reciprocating than I'm capable of now."

I dropped my head on his chest in a theatrically gesture and whined, "But Jimmy, I waited over twenty years to get to this point. _Pleeeease_!"

His laughter rumbled from his chest through my head and I knew that I'd get my way. I slipped my hands under his pajama top and brushed my fingertips over his nipples. He gasped and arched up into my touch. I pulled the top up to his throat, then rested my head on his belly again while I explored his chest. I couldn't keep up this position for long because it was awkward and uncomfortable. I lifted his right leg up and slid between his legs, still sitting on the edge of the bed.

"That's unfair," he complained. "I'm barely able to touch you."

"You're too uncoordinated to touch instead of slapping anyway," I told him.

I mapped his abdomen with my hands, trying to memorize every tiny detail. His breathing hitched when I pulled the pants over his pelvic bones, revealing his hard cock. I took in the sight of him – hair already tousled, eyes almost black, chest heaving up and down fast and a cock that waited for me. I didn't waste time and sucked him into my mouth with one swift move. He groaned loudly and I congratulated myself when I bobbed my head up and down experimentally, trying to find out what he liked. It seemed he wasn't too picky and soon I tasted the first drops of pre-come on my tongue.

I let him slip out of my mouth and was rewarded with hearing him whine, "What are you doing? Get back there!"

"No way. I still intend to claim your ass."

I hauled him upright and helped him to get rid of his top, then laid him down again. I tugged at the pants and was delighted by the sight of him sprawled out in front of me. It was as if Christmas had come early and I was unwrapping my most desired gift.

Wilson cleared his throat, "Your detailed inspection of my body is creeping me out. Also: you're overdressed."

I smirked and got rid of my shirt and boxers in less than ten seconds. Coyly I batted my eyelashes and asked, "Like what you see?"

"I do."

I beckoned him to roll over on his stomach which he did with some difficulties, grumbling, "Me flailing around isn't the least romantic or erotic. It feels like I'm doing a slapstick movie."

I chuckled and rested my hands on top of his buttocks. They molded perfectly in my palms and even though he was still grumbling, he also shivered in anticipation. I began kneading his flesh and his grumblings were cut off by needy, wanton moans.

"You've watched too many chick flicks. I don't do romance and neither do you. We're doing it our way which is much more fun anyway," I told him.

His head was tilted to one side and he frowned at me. His face and the rest of his body unwound after a few seconds. A lopsided smile settled on his face, a sight that totally did _not_ cause my dick to twitch.

"Our way – I like that phrase," he whispered.

I kneaded his ass for a while, then my fingers trailed a path along his inner thighs. He shifted and spread his legs little by little. I was sure he was hiccuping when my fingertips brushed over his sac and perineum for the first time. I crawled between his parted legs, testing how much my thigh could bear that night. Meredith must have done some kind of a miracle because it still felt sore but didn't begin to cramp like I had expected it to do.

I bent down and pressed kisses on every single patch of skin I could reach. I learned that he was ticklish on the inner side of his thighs, that he sighed deeply when I kissed the moles above his ass and that he started begging when I nipped at his buttocks. Preparation was quick business and rolling the condom over my leaking dick could only be named torture.

I positioned myself between his legs, guided my dick to his entrance with one hand while I held his buttocks apart with the other one. I pressed the tip of my dick inside him and we both gasped loudly. He clenched around me and I was seeing bright gleaming light spots in front of my inner eye. Between gritted teeth I squeezed out, "Keep this up and it'll be over in about five seconds."

"No stamina, eh? Here I was and thought you'd draw this out as long as possible."

I muttered something about him being a cheeky bastard but he only chuckled. I pressed further on, diving into warm tightness. I didn't give him much time to adjust as I pushed into him but his only reactions were to claw at the pillow and moan something that could have been my name. When I was sheathed into him to the hilt I paused and placed gentle kisses on his neck and between his shoulder blades.

He shifted a bit around which irritated me at first. Before I could snap I understood that he wanted to stuff the other pillow under his pelvis and lift up his ass. I helped him arrange himself, all the while muttering, "You couldn't have thought about that before we were at it?"

"Actually no, I couldn't. I was too occupied with what you were doing to me," he answered

I decided I could live with that answer since the angle to plunge into him was so much better. I steadied myself by holding his hips in an almost bruising grip, begging my leg to keep the good behavior up. I slid out of him completely, then breached him again. After that I established a steady rhythm of in-and-out moves. He pumped himself in time with my thrusts and our groans seemed to reverberate from the walls.

It felt amazing to be finally inside him, claim him as mine. I hoped he knew what he was getting himself into because there was no way I would let him go _ever_ again. I had my eyes closed but opened them when a keening sound was ripped from his throat. A movement next to us caught my eye and I was shocked into silence. Wilson however was not as he asked, "What the hell is _that_?"


	12. Chapter 12

In utter bafflement I stared at the two animals that were tussling next to us. I couldn't make out much more than that there were two animals, one with a bright red fur, the other one with a fur that was more brown than red. Wilson and I were quiet and stared and eventually the tussling decreased and the red-furred animal looked straight at us while the other one nuzzled his face into the red fur.

Wilson rambled, "That's … that's a red fox and … and the other one is one too, I think. How did they get into the room? Do you think they're dangerous? Are they even real?"

I had no answer to any of his questions so I remained silent. I did however reach out with my hand but the fox hissed at me and startled the other one with that. I gasped when the other fox gazed at me provokingly. What surprised me the most was that he had blue eyes. The wheels in my head started turning slowly but grew faster quickly.

I took in the sight of the two foxes. The blue-eyed one had a grayish snout and some gray streaks were woven into his fur. My eyes got stuck for a minute at the sight of the right hind paw of it; a long and deep scar was visible. I couldn't help it but had to smile when I recognized the position the two foxes were in. The red-furred one was on his belly, his ass up in the air while the blue-eyed one was sprawled on top of him, holding him down. Both foxes watched us but the one on top would occasionally bite into the neck of his mate or give a slight push with his hips, eliciting a growled response from the other one.

I began circling my own hips and heard Wilson gasp in surprise. The blue-eyed fox seemed to lose interest in us and pulled at an ear of his mate. The red-furred one turned his head and licked over his partner's nose. I gave a few shallow thrusts, then angled my hips in a way that I knew I'd brush over Wilson's prostate. Wilson moaned my name and the red-furred fox keened.

"How … how can you keep this up with … with those foxes doing … whatever right next to us? That is the weirdest thing I've _ever _experienced," Wilson complained.

"They are us."

"_What?_"

"They are us."

"No, they are _not_ us. They are foxes and we are-"

I cut him off. "Look at them," I whispered. Wilson squeezed his eyes tightly shut and I tugged at his earlobe. His eyes opened again and I repeated, "Look at them. They are doing what we're doing."

His face reddened but he looked at the two mating foxes. I bit down on Wilson's shoulder and soothed the bruise with a lick. The blue-eyed fox did the same to his mate. I pumped in and out of Wilson with hard thrusts, causing the two of us to breathe heavily and the foxes mirrored our actions.

"Are they real? I mean, I mean, do you think we could touch them?"

"I don't know," I answered truthfully.

Suddenly Wilson laughed which caused his muscles to clench around me vigorously. I cursed at the sudden milking motions around my thickness, feeling my climax building up with force. Fortunately I was distracted by Wilson telling me, "So, you're a fox too. Maybe that is why we get along, huh? Maybe all the other people we have been with were from a different species and therefore our relationships were doomed to fail."

"There have to be more people with similar personalities. Whatever, I don't care anymore. We're going to ask Meredith tomorrow."

"_Right_, and with that give away that we had sex in their guestroom. No way."

"They'll know what we did anyway," I replied.

"Because of the missing condom?"

"No, because they'll hear you scream in a few minutes."

He groaned in exasperation and surely was about to give a sarcastic remark but never got around to uttering it. I kissed him before I helped him turn his head around so that he was facing away from the mating foxes. I resumed my steady rhythm from earlier and brought him to the edge several times. He pulled at his dick frantically and sweaty beads formed on his back. I nipped at his skin, tasting the saltiness when he begged, "Shit! House, _please_. I … I can't anymore."

"Now who's lacking in stamina?"

"Me, me, it's me, okay? Please, please, _please_."

I wasn't even able to give a witty reply as my body reacted to his pleas subconsciously. I plunged into him, hitting his prostate every time and listened to him yelling my name when he came in long, milky spurts. He tightened around me in rapid succession and I gave in to the inevitable. Our flesh made vulgar slapping sounds as I rode out my climax within him and I was almost hyperventilating when I was finished.

My arms were threatening to buckle and I was shaking by the time I pulled out of Wilson. He was still breathing fast and his eyes were closed. I helped him to roll on his side, away from the huge wet spot in the middle of the bed. After tossing the condom on the floor I spooned up behind him. I did _not_ do that out of mushy romanticism rather than that there was no other possibility since neither of us was going to sleep on that spot.

"See, I said you'd be screaming my name," I gloated.

"Congratulations! I'll be an awkwardly stammering and blushing mess tomorrow morning," he answered.

"Well, that's the price for getting fucked into the mattress."

He snorted and snuggled closer to me until his ass was flush against my pelvis. He pulled at my arm to drape it over his torso and intertwined our hands. I was dumbfounded when I became aware that I went along with the cuddling willingly. It felt too good, much too good to fuss about it. I even didn't feel the urge to mock him and tell him that I always thought he'd be a cuddler. Instead I rubbed my nose against his neck and inhaled his musky scent.

He startled me with his drowsy question of, "Are they still here?"

"Who?"

"The foxes, are they still here?"

I lifted up my head but not to look around if the foxes were still there rather than to look if Wilson's eyes were closed. They were and I lied, "No, they aren't here anymore. Go to sleep."

He muttered something which I couldn't decipher and dozed off within a minute. I tightened my grip around him, feeling relieved that he was back in his human body. No matter how weird it had been for him to get turned into a fox kit and back again and no matter how scared I had been when I had brought him in the Henderson's house just hours ago – I was glad that all this had happened. With this thought I allowed myself to hope that maybe _this_, whatever it was that we had between us, would work out.

Before I fell asleep I watched the two foxes who were curled together in a heap of red and brown fur at the end of the bed. The red-furred one was already sleeping while the blue-eyed one was still grooming his mate in a concentrated and loving manner. I smiled and thought, "_Yeah, that totally fits us._"

END


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